Almost Midnight
By Deborah A. MirandaWife and dogs have gone to bed.
I sit here with the front door open.
Crickets sing patiently, a long lullaby
in lazy harmony. Rain falls
Calling poets to a greater role in public life and fostering a national network of socially engaged poets.
By Deborah A. MirandaWife and dogs have gone to bed.
I sit here with the front door open.
Crickets sing patiently, a long lullaby
in lazy harmony. Rain falls
By Sherwin BitsuiFather's dying ceased
when he refunded this ours
for fused hands plaster-coated
By Trace Howard DePass[And legal] now.
[Taking full advantage of the enough he is.
Might go sign up for the war.
By Linda HoganI thank the eagle and Old Mother for this prayer
I send to earth and sky
and the sacred waters. I thank Old Mother
and the golden eagle, the two who taught me to pray
By Sarah Maria MedinaLearn to attend the fire, learn that breath between stones & flames lets the fire burn. Notice her breath, give her breath from your mouth, heated from your pink tongue.
By Linda HoganThis is the word that is always bleeding.
You didn't think this
until you country changes and when it thunders
you search your own body
By Natalie DiazNatalie Diaz reads "Ode to the Beloved's Hips" at the 2014 Split This Rock Poetry Festival.
By Joy HarjoJoy Harjo performs at the 2014 Split This Rock Poetry Festival. Harjo opens her performance with an honor song, followed by the poem, "In a World Long Before This One."
By Lois BeardsleeWhen I asked my mother
If she could remember
What her mother's mother called December
By L. Lamar WilsonShe ambles about this Mickey-Dee kitchen’s din,
unmoved by the hot grease threatening
her ¿puedo tomar su orden? mask.