Articles in arts & in & society tagged with poem

Peter Myers

1. Crisis is a rusted minivan throwing down spike strips on the highway of teleology. The Anthropocenester is in the passenger seat. 

2. Crisis bangs on the table and demands immediate action in the form of risk management or hazard mitigation. The Anthropocenester wipes up the coffee that spilled.

Stephanie Cawley

Yes, I did hold a plague in my pupils. Yes, I did lift up my dress and walk through fields to kill each beetle and pest. The last landscape designated protected was the swamp. The marsh and its salt, weedy tufts of grass stuck up above the flood.

Arianne True
Adam Dickinson

Anxiety waits 
for a table 
under a cave painting.

christie Poetry
Heather Christle

The day cracks itself
on my forehead, like

an egg.

landau1 Poetry
Deborah Landau

Don’t blame the wisteria for setting off a feeling like freedom a feeling like joy.

We watched the people walking in the open square—

one of them was a specialist in killing, fear was the way of others.

I’ve seen the most extraordinary thing about people, their faces.

mechanics1 Poetry
Henry Israeli

From far away the child’s singing
            sounds like the cries of a rat
in the mouth of a python.

Heidi Johannesen Poon

and I’m still
waiting for you

outside some card shop
running the car

Monica Sok

We danced with Khmer boys. Strobe lights pulled us

         on the floor. This way. That. Our feet groped the shiny, black tiles

reflecting the bar where old expats sat with Khmer women making money.

Paul Tran

There are many ways to die, you remind me,
pointing towards your scorched heart, lance-

pierced and thorn-leashed, as I think I’m dying,
sensation abandoning then shocking my body,