Three Poems by Jonathan Ukah

“Then you arrived like fresh tulips in winter,/the shape of my heart, the color of gold;/you turned the weeds in my garden into roses,/every rock on my farm was a bar of chocolate/waiting to feed our future generations…”

Read more

Three Poems by Ace Boggess

“I scan rooms with a happiness detector,/which is like a broken Geiger counter/that stays silent while the bombs go off.”

Read more


Denise Gromov

“Age isn’t just a number, as we’d heard/it’s how we get here. I’m twice my daughter’s age/and neither thought we’d haul ourselves this far.”

Read more

The Elegant Trogon and Poem for Robert Desnos

“I have/a secret pigeon in my heart./I keep it in a cage composed of object lessons and feed it/moral law.”

Read more

Lost in the Woods

(JP Valery)

“Lost in the Woods is a symptom/of heart’s sudden loss/of direction registered in small/persistent cramps and little gasps.”

Read more

That Wind

(Collab Media)

“Night’s ink congeals on rice, coating peas/like black sea pebbles glistening in the harrowed/moonlight staring through the shattered kitchen window.”

Read more

“Mandarin Duck” and Other Poems

In shallow ripples bathing together in pairs, as may be seen by the deep, clear waters of Xiangjiang.”

Read more

Rossetti’s Notebook (1862-1869)

(La Ghirlandata (detail), 1873, Dante Gabriel Rossetti. Oil on canvas. Guildhall Art Gallery)

“Nonetheless, a worm/had eaten its way through any number/of Gabriel’s lines, some of his best./He had to reconstruct them from memory,/or compose them anew.”

Read more

Let It Be Known

“On its dead claws and back, mottled and plain,/from a long beach whose gulls roost on an edge,/Inscrutable.”

Read more

“I ask your forgiveness; I am a mountain tiger”

(“Ginevra de’ Benci” by Leonardo da Vinci (c.1474-1478)

Why does she ask forgiveness?/For what and from whom?/Why does she call herself/a mountain tiger?”

Read more

Life Cycle of the Cabbage White Butterfly

Examining for mixed motives the flaws/That turned their city-cousins ash-/Grey. She labels one Snow-in-Ghana,/As though she doesn’t trust her own desire.”

Read more

The Return

I am alive and you’re alive, and hope exists,/but I have to bid farewell to these words of mine,/which I will never shout, because I’m but a man. “

Read more

The Indian and Draw Near, White Man

(A crèche in Peru by Edilberto Mérida. Photograph by Juana Moriel Payne)

“And working together, what might we become?/citizens of a single kingdom./you could find it all in the palm of your hand/alongside Indian, yellow and black.”

Read more

Walking the Butter Mill Trail

(cuatrok77’s “Vegetation of Florida”)

I sometimes think I don’t belong here/in this wood–that the tree’s knots/are frowns grown for me, or the leaf crunch/is a worm cracking a crass joke at my expense.”

Read more

Turkey Buzzard

(Juana Moriel-Payne)

“Here on a narrow one-lane/overgrown with cattails and ivy/the circle of turkey buzzards draws closer.”

Read more