Skip to Content
Search Results
Gretchen Primack

The Dogs and I Walked Our Woods,

By Gretchen Primack and there was a dog, precisely the colors of autumn,
asleep between two trunks by the trail.
But it was a coyote, paws pink
Joy Harjo

Anchorage

By Joy Harjo This city is made of stone, of blood, and fish.
There are Chugatch Mountains to the east
and whale and seal to the west.
Eduardo Corral

All the Trees of the Field Shall Clap Their Hands

By Eduardo C. Corral Are the knees & elbows
the first knots
the dead untie?
Sheila Black

My Mission is to Surprise and Delight

By Sheila Black Sheila Black reads "My Mission is to Surprise & Delight" at the 2014 Split This Rock Poetry Festival.

My daughter works in the Apple Store--the Help Center, open 24-7,
people from all fifty states, angry because their iPhones
malfunctioned or they don't know how to program their data
celeste doaks

Single Twin Band Crush

By celeste doaks Aaron and Anita, the first real twins I ever personally knew,
drum majored our ragged band in high school called--
the Marching LaSalle Lions. Anita was the outgoing,
Myra Sklarew

Infinite Regress of War

By Myra Sklarew In the mirror of infinite regress
go back. Go back to Vietnam. To a man
who can spot a trip wire fine as a hair,
Eduardo Corral

Cayucos

By Eduardo C. Corral A girl asleep beneath a fishing net
Sandals the color of tangerines
Off the coast of Morocco
Gretchen Primack

The Absence of Unnecessary Hurting

By Gretchen Primack This is the press of the earth. One star hanging
there, honking like a goose. The lake
a smudge of black juice, the hill a draped
Joseph Ross

Hammering on Rocks

By Joseph Ross Hammering on rocks
can break the hammerer's back
when stooped
Truth Thomas

Sunday Kind of Love

By Truth Thomas Shayna reads the Word and takes
the story of that first miracle as
serious as unpaid electric bills in
winter
Page 29 of 36 pages