Category

Epigraph

A quotation placed beneath the title at the beginning of a poem or section of a poem.

Showing 1-20 of 153
  • Poem
    By Toi Derricotte
                                                                      To be born woman is to know—...
  • Poem
    By Rajiv Mohabir
    Look at your feet, so beautiful. Do
    not step on the ground, filth will smear them;

    your future will fill with pricks. He with a
    fearful heart, understand dead. Death will dance

    on your head — lift your eyes and see. I am
    its servant,...
  • Poem
    By Rickey Laurentiis
    Because I should’ve wrote this years ago, I’m crying. So what my slow failure pass the years
          Make me be crying. So what in Bethlehem I tried to push so much against it, where the Wall is checkpoint...
  • Poem
    By Chris Abani
    A stream in a forest and a boy fishing,
    heart aflame, head hush, tasting the world—
    lick and pant. The Holy Scripture
    is animal not book.
    I should know, I have smoked
    the soul of God, psalm burning
    between fingers on an African afternoon.
    And how is...
  • Poem

    From the magazine:

    k.o.d.a.k.

    By Patti Smith
    picture this. I’ll play the killer. 16 millimeter.
    ebony and ivory. the purest contrast. iris closed.
    open sesame. a screen of creamy white satin.
    on that wedding lap a white persian cat. a pale
    hand pets. milk purr. pan up slow. it’s me see.
    in...
  • Poem

    From the magazine:

    Moana Means Home: A Contrapuntal

    By Terisa Siagatonu
    someone will
    touch the Earth
    once, I wanted
    my own soil.
    tried to drown my ankles
    in myself.
    again. Daughter of Oceania
    wanting me home.
    my skin is sacred ground.
    always want
    to take
    a white girl's skin
    I cried so hard,
    until I became a boat
    I never want to be lost
    at high...
  • Poem

    From the magazine:

    What Women Are Made Of

    By Bianca Lynne Spriggs
    We are all ventricle, spine, lung, larynx, and gut.
    Clavicle and nape, what lies forked in an open palm;

    we are follicle and temple. We are ankle, arch,
    sole. Pore and rib, pelvis and root

    and tongue. We are wishbone and gland and molar
    and...
  • Poem

    From the magazine:

    Ode to Fetty Wap (written after strip club)

    By Roya Marsh
    ...    then Rap Gawd formed a man
    from the dust of the auto-tune
    &breathed into his nostrils
    the breath of Rémy Martin
    the man became Fetty Wap.

    Rap Gawd saw fit to
    make Fetty a counterpart.
    so he caused the man to fall into a deep sleep;
    while he...
  • Poem

    From the magazine:

    We House

    By Britteney Black Rose Kapri
    House, as in abode, as in dwelling, as in crib, as in where your inhibitions go to rest. as in jack, loft, footwork. as in sweating out that press and curl. as in yo momma steppin out tonight. as in...
  • Poem

    From the magazine:

    a little hopeful song

    By Bernadette Hall
    I give thee the sun as guarantee
    and the Egyptian faience beads

    and the little silver oar that was gifted once
    to an English harbor master.

    I give thee the silk dress
    with its triple-ruffled sleeves and

    the cloaks with big hoods that fall full
    though some...
  • Poem

    From the magazine:

    Sitting on a Desk Together at SMU, 1982

    By Sandra McPherson
    A girl moaning: I don’t
    understand
    “Wave.”


    You said, Maybe
    you should try
    selected whitecaps
    .

    I saw, on a flight
    to Honolulu, plane-shadow
    on whitecaps.

    My eye tried them.
    Yours could, in its sleep.
    Others needn’t think of them

    as waves
    but as scratches
    in the furniture,

    light wood under stain.
    Obscurity stains almost the whole
    half-globe,

    hemisphere....
  • Poem

    From the magazine:

    Brantwood Senilia

    By Paul Batchelor
                               My dear little birds,
          before me on my desk this morning
    where I sit preparing tomorrow’s lesson
          lies a copy of The Witches’ Rout...
  • Poem

    From the magazine:

    Ballad of the Clyde’s Water

    By Marion McCready
    mother’s malison


    The burr of the wind is seeping through the door,
    pink stumps of rhubarb are breaking through the soil.
    Though it is February I have the mind of autumn.
    Though it is February    
    ...    

    The upstairs baby is crying through the wall,
    the bay tree...
  • Poem

    From the magazine:

    The White Campion

    By Donald Revell
    i

    How is it I can never find
    Or call to mind
    One image of Christ walking slowly in the rain,
    In a steady, gentle rain,
    The kind that shapes an afterimage
    Just for a moment of the man
    Like a cloak of shadow following
    Or like a...
  • Poem

    From the magazine:

    Recycler

    By Christopher Spaide
    i. troppo allegro


    Remember seasons? Seem to recall those once were easier.
    Reasonably sequenced, regal of tempo and temper,
    Reliable change flipped heads-over-tails each quarter,
    Recovering the hemisphere with four fine suits, knock-off designer.

    Recently, someone shuffled, cut the deck into disorder:
    Relapse, tic, hiccup, snap,...
  • Poem

    From the magazine:

    I am dark, I am forest

    By Jenn Givhan
    I carried a bowl of menudo into the forest / I carried my bisabuela’s tripas not daring ask whose intestines I carried / con cilantro y radish y cebolla chopped fine / I carried the sewing machine they’d chained her...
  • Poem

    From the magazine:

    Windows

    By Sumita Chakraborty
    i

    how much     loss
    gains suddenly in emphasis
    and     brilliant sadness



      ii

    far from that which lives and turns



      iii

    languages
    of our vain comings and goings wilt and gnaw



      iv

    beat them,                    ...
  • Poem

    From the magazine:

    Balm & Lamentation

    By Anne Waldman
    Blood of an eye: tamarisk gall.
    Blood from a shoulder: bear’s breach.
    From the loins: chamomile.
    Blood from a head: lupine.
    A hawk’s heart: heart of wormwood.
     — From Coptic & Greek Magical Papyri



    Schematic humans    ...    figures of them, & their helpers    ...    

    pheromones rise
        odd jagged breath lines,...
  • Poem

    From the magazine:

    The Underwings of War

    By Linda Bierds
    Notch.
    Web.
    And then,
    down the shaft,
    lesser wing coverts
    and marginal coverts, and soft,
    greater underwing coverts — although never as great
    as greater under-primary
    coverts, gray-coated
    and down-plumped,
    trailing
    what
    might
    reveal
    a pattern
    just over the down
    that might support a secrecy.
    Launched from double-decker buses, or attic windows,
    or the dark roofs at Bletchley Park,
    the lesser...
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