Poetry Magazine
FROM THE CURRENT ISSUE OF
Poetry Magazine
Time does not move in one direction. Time is never straight.
. Unquote.Time does not move in one direction. Time is never straight.
. Unquote.From the magazine:Chipping Sparrow
From the magazine:Raucous Prayer
From the magazine:Kamau
Recent Features from Poetry
Prose from Poetry Magazine
From the magazine:Survival Marvels: The Portal Poetics of Cheryl Clarke
By Alexis Pauline GumbsTo engage the timeful queerness of Cheryl Clarke’s impact is to enter a portal.
- Poem
From the magazine:
Ask Asklepius
By Eleni Sikelianos & Courtney StephensAsklepius: the god of medicine.
Asklepius had a daughter who was the goddess of universal remedy: Panacea. CHORUS
We all have mothers and fathers
and sometimes we must scrub ourselves clean — Asklepius had a daughter who was the goddess of cleanliness: Hygeia. - Poem
From the magazine:Dynamic Disks, 1933
By Raymond AntrobusMy phone memory is full
of canvases I have cried in front of—
circles, holes—
Shadows on water.
___…
Prose from Poetry Magazine
From the magazine:On Shame: In the Realm of Death and Awe
My writing was not more important to me than my wish to have a family. And this is the well from which much of my shame flowed.
Prose from Poetry Magazine
From the magazine:On Neediness: Midnight Chimes
What other kind of writer puts so much stock in the quasi-religious notion of a calling or a vocation?
Prose from Poetry Magazine
From the magazine:On Despair: It’s All a Charade
If you can describe it, you must not be knowing it.
Prose from Poetry Magazine
From the magazine:On Contempt: I Want to Be Liked
I want reading a poem to be a bit like risky sex.
Prose from Poetry Magazine
From the magazine:On Pettiness: About Those Flying Buttresses
When asked to muse on an awkward or difficult emotion, I think: Aren’t all emotions awkward?
From the Poetry Magazine Archive
- Poem
From the magazine:
(slang)uage
By Kyle Carrero Lopeztalked montclairian growin’ up in jerz: chirp yerp in a dark park,
hear it called back: you good to cyph. whole people dubbed head or mug—
that bougie teen $ynecdoche—chug too much queeze and you’ll boot. here i learn
“college fund” from white folk,... - Poem
From the magazine:
Money Tree
By Chanda FeldmanA shine to the bark, silver leaves aflicker
and the wound that made the basketball hoop:
a bicycle’s metal wheel gouged in the tree,
the trunk’s burred lip that clamps it.
Whose childhood monument is this?
In the foreground of whose childhood home,
its blind-drawn windows?... - Poem
From the magazine:Funeral home viewing room: September
By bruno daríoTranslated By Kit SchluterI swept my house and found another. In every corner was another smaller corner, which the dust mask …
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History
Poetry was founded in Chicago by Harriet Monroe in 1912.
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