By Martha Silano
Is this the last time I’ll admire the guys
in their neon-yellow slickers, guiding us
to our parking spots…
in their neon-yellow slickers, guiding us
to our parking spots…
Explore Poems: Subjects
Showing 1-20 of 18,142 poems
- By Chris WatkinsI was riding toward Damascus
to yell at some Christians and maybe
stone a few uninhibited women
when… - By Janice Lobo Sapigao1.
i wish i could tell you why i go back and forth between cities.
maybe i belong to the bridges &… - By Nick Makohai. samo© as an alternative to blah ... blahblahblah. blahzooey ... bblahblah quasi-blah ... etc.
(in… - By Elise PaschenDuring the Grayhorse
Dances in June,
my mother side-stepped
around the circle,
echoing moves
her grandmother… - By Elise PaschenLily Gladstone confides she wore my great
grandmother Eliza’s blankets in three scenes.
I don’t remember… - By Rigoberto GonzálezI’m consuming myself,
my doctor says, and I get
the urge each time I lift
a fork. How it rattles
with… - By Diannely AntiguaWhy else would she lift her shirt every night
to show the world her one milky
breast? My sister says… - By Jordan PérezWhen the purple snap peas in the garden
couldn’t find anything to grasp onto, the shoots
ferned into… - By Yesenia Montilla& I immediately think of Cheryl, her Malik, his beloved
obsession with the team’s orange & blue, a sunset… - By Darrel Alejandro HolnesThis love dares not speak its name
in some states
until your eyes say it
on a beach in Ft. Lauderdale… - By heidi andrea restrepo rhodesI: My beloved is called an inconceivable beast, a spectacle diagnosed with teratoid genitalia, a chaos…
- By Carmen GiménezIn Lima, my mother screams from her bed and from a garden
and in the parlor of her nursing home, and… - By Michelle OteroAfter the stroke our father lost the word
light switch
asked me to
press the wall so a world could open… - By Carmen Calatayudmy body at the water’s edge of opioid comfort
under the brain’s night sky
rounding the blue curve … - By Blas FalconerIn Francisco Oller’s El Velorio, a child lies
on a table as if sleeping. It is covered in lace
and blossoms… - By Richard BlancoAfter my third shot of tequila / chased by a lime
sour as my rant: fuck this-fuck that-fuck them-fuck… - By Nick MakohaSAMO© first appears as a tag on a New York
City wall in 1978 two blocks down from Aswad
bookstore… - By Martha SilanoBecause why not? Why not take the smashed pinecone
of my life, render it in purple? Why not dream of… - By Karl KnightsYou left a note.
‘Please don’t judge me
too harshly.’ I read it
at your memorial.
I hate that my voice
didn…