By Ann-Margaret Lim
Holding his stare in mine, I flip the bird
at a grown man
on a stool in front of the street bar
on the …
at a grown man
on a stool in front of the street bar
on the …
Explore Poems: Coming of Age
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- By Mitchell GlazierStiletto melon collies, a tinsel mystic streaks our homeplace.
Lantern flies triple from the sleeping… - By Heidi WilliamsonYou’re fifteen and nowhere in a town on the edge of pitiful lands stripped of fruit. The burger van’…
- By Joshua BennettFor the sake of argument, let’s say
the day my father outlawed all contact
between backhand and face, … - By Shara McCallumWhy yu always ask stupid question, ee?
The man call mango head because him head
shape like mango. What… - By Sarah CarsonThe last man here wanted
what could not be taken: My girl, he'd say,
my baby. The narrow of his eyes… - By Sarah CarsonThe first gun we knew came in a toolbox for the apocalypse: hammer, barrel, crushed can, pack of Newports…
- By Carol Ann DuffyAt childhood’s end, the houses petered out
into playing fields, the factory, allotments
kept, like mistresses… - By Tamsin MooreLong, empty roads stretching as long as the gas tank is willing—
Sixty-seven dollars left from last … - By Max FischerTaking off my clothes
feels like peeling off parts of
myself as if I’m a butterfly
with its wings sheared… - By Miguel A. VegaIf, even now, I am excited about it: every cow & horse,
every canoe on the surface of Pyramid Lake—…
- By Wayne MillerMy daughter is building a path
across the lake.
Each morning she goes out
with an armful of boards
and hammers… - By Natasha SajéDo for your neck what you do for your face.
Face your neck whatever the case. Pace yourself
for 35-55,… - By Lev RubinsteinTranslated By Tatiana Tulchinsky & Philip Metres1
Well, what on earth is there to say?
2
He knows something, but won’t tell.
3
Who knows, maybe you’re … - By Sholeh WolpéTall, stiff and spiny.
Try to make it to the other side
and risk savage thorns.
We who left home in our… - By Paul Laurence DunbarAs a quiet little seedling
Lay within its darksome bed,
To itself it fell a-talking,
And this is what… - By Ada LimónMy brother holds a snake by its head. The whole
length of the snake is the length
of my brother’s body. The snake’s head
is held safely, securely, as if my brother
is showing him something in the distant high grass.
I... - By Ada LimónI pass the feeder and yell, Grackle party! And then an hour later I yell, Mourning dove afterparty! (I call the feeder the party and the seed on the ground the afterparty.) I am getting so good at watching that...
- By SapphoTranslated By Dan Beachy-QuickAs the sweet-apple reddens on the high branch,
high on the highest branch, that the apple-pickers forgot… - By R. L. SwihartThe young man says, “Alan can
do anything he wants”
“Not fly,” I say
The young man returns
a puzzled look…