*Because I don’t believe in memoirs and because I was never the kind of precocious young person who is the sort of person whogrows up to become a writer, having kept meticulous and idiosyncraticrecords of their own ...
Brief Encounters with Famous Men by Kimberly Andrews
LAR Online, Poetry
Question everything: the creakof the bridge and the crookof the stair, be wary of the dry,knocking trees, the ochre inyour daughter’s eyes—trustnothing to be only what you askof it. Cherry blossomswill remain ...
THE POET’S GUIDE TO TRANSLATION by Arah Ko
LAR Online, Poetry
JoanIn March, Joan staged a photo of mefrom behind a bar as if she was the tender.I watched her spine curve in the mirrorbehind bottles.She thanked me in June:Thank you for the cuterock. She took the pebble and placed ...
Two Poems by Jess Eagle
LAR Online, Poetry
I look out my classroom windowand clock the empty air where atree stood for the first decade ofmy career.I once wrote a poem aboutsquirrels scurrying around itsboughs and trunk, but thosesquirrels turned up roadkill in ...
For My Students Who Wrote Poems Using ChatGPT This Year by Dante Di Stefano
LAR Online, Poetry
It’s hard not to think, especially here, that the river must be burning.In the meantime some men & women are paid to count everything.Fire where the fire should be, in the place of the sun. It’s about ...
SITTING BEFORE J.M.W. TURNER’S BURNING OF THE HOUSES OF PARLIAMENT IN THE CLEVELAND ART MUSEUM by G.C. Waldrep
LAR Online, Poetry
An orchid is the eldest daughter of refugees, uprooted in a stranger’s land. She changes her name and tucks away dresses adorned with mirrors and beadwork. Our ancestors were silversmiths. Here, the craft is dead. ...
Repotting an Orchid by Zuhra Malik
LAR Online, Poetry
one of her big boys rips open a packet of matador spinach seeds,strews them amid a diameter of potted dirt and waits for water and sun to do their thing in the dark stairwell alcove. show me yours, water says, and sun ...
WHEN A BLACK WOMAN DIES by AKHIM YUSEFF CABEY
LAR Online, Poetry
Faith (after Alain Bosquet)
God tempts me in my language.
As I reject Him, I feel remorse.
He is that within me which is
repulsed by the smallness in me.
I create God to limit ...
Two Poems by Joshua McKinney
LAR Online, Poetry
Tuesday afternoons my prof & I would meet because I knew the guy who supervised the cages, who’d unlock the token box so we could swing for free. I’d watch as Alan — bifocals sweat-streaked & pacemaker ...
Intro to Poetry by Reed Turchi
LAR Online, Poetry
