Poetry Magazine
FROM THE CURRENT ISSUE OF
Poetry magazine
The best life is the life
Lived out unmeasured.
The best life is the life
Lived out unmeasured.
From the magazine:Proof
Proof
From the magazine:The Before Picture
From the magazine:Sentences
Recent Features from Poetry
Prose from Poetry Magazine
From the magazine:Beyond Black Appalachia
By Megan PillowAffrilachian evolution and postcolonial community in the poetry of Frank X Walker.
Prose from Poetry Magazine
From the magazine:“They Seeded Themselves”
By Kelly Norman EllisOn Frank X Walker and the power of Affrilachian gatherings.
Prose from Poetry Magazine
From the magazine:Destroying Time: On the Lasting Legacy of Larry LevisBy Jacques J. RancourtAn intimate and compassionate voice from a lost paradise.
Hard Feelings Essays
Prose from Poetry Magazine
From the magazine:On Self-Loathing: My Particular Involvement
When, long after puberty had done its work, I was finally able to re-admit my original understanding of myself to myself, I saw my self-loathing in a new light.
Prose from Poetry Magazine
From the magazine:On Heartbreak: The Beautiful Half of a Golden Hurt
On Heartbreak: The Beautiful Half of a Golden Hurt
I’ve heard it said that if poets are not writing about death, they’re not writing about anything; the same could be said for love.
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.
From the Poetry Magazine Archive
- PoemFrom the magazine:
Intelligent Design
By Vievee FrancisShiraishi called upon the great sky cock,
wanted an explanation, wondered, why
the echo of form without the wisdom,
why the bent wit without the timing.
Wondered, as I have, how a man, bare
upon the bed may rise as if in praise
but fail to... - PoemFrom the magazine:
Farewell to Poetry
By Daniel RuizI give myself to the end of this poem to decide.
I empty myself, have emptied myself 10,000 times,
like a lung. I guess that’s a terrible estimate. We breathe a fuckton—
even when air has skunk taste and texture, as opposed
to its...
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History
Poetry was founded in Chicago by Harriet Monroe in 1912.
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