Death Valley, California
By Jeneva Stoneclose to the Nevada border salt
flats dry beds octagonal or hexed
one constant the wind another
dryness the two wicked all away
Calling poets to a greater role in public life and fostering a national network of socially engaged poets.
By Jeneva Stoneclose to the Nevada border salt
flats dry beds octagonal or hexed
one constant the wind another
dryness the two wicked all away
By Amanda GormanThere’s a poem in this place—
in the footfalls in the halls
in the quiet beat of the seats.
It is here, at the curtain of day,
By Katy RicheyThere’s not a single thing in your closet
that should be worn after 1997.
You do look fat in those pants,
By Jennifer BartlettJennifer Bartlett performs an excerpt from "The Hindrances of a Householder" at the 2016 Split This Rock Poetry Festival.
By Jennifer Bartlettto walk means to fall
to thrust forward
to fall and catch
the seemingly random
is its own system of gestures
By Camisha JonesThis body is one long moan
My feet a landscape of mines
My legs two full pails of water I spill
at the weight of
My back where the sharpest knives are kept
My hands a scatter of matches ready to spark into flame
By Kathi WolfeIn an elevator trapped
between the fifteenth and sixteenth
floor of her apartment building,
Sunday morning, Elizabeth, her cane
By Ellen McGrath SmithI wanted bad to advance to Washington, D. C.
I wanted to be anyone but me.
The nun who had trained me for the spelling bee
needed a ride, and I was so worried all the way across town
By Marilyn NelsonMarilyn Nelson performs the poem "Millie Christine" at the 2012 Split This Rock Poetry Festival.
By Peter Cook and Kenny LernerNeed, desperate need, eagle-taloned need
is a pumping drill. The oil sloshes
to the brim. The lid slams and it’s a tanker
spewing smoke. It burps and hisses