I
After Sunday another winter Monday,
and some hours after Monday’s midnight
his fourth week began. His fourth Tuesday
alone with her, still on the five-to-noon shift
he’d ...
A Few Minutes After Nine by Charles Douthat
LAR Online, Poetry
Heaven Knows
Some days, you wake up
and the light in the field is like swimming
or moving through clear fog, is something that pushes
back—not startling but steady pressure,
the ...
Two Poems by Anna V. Q. Ross
LAR Online, Poetry
Blood Poisoning
Eight generations of matriarchs
declared her the black ewe
in our lineage. And even from
a trunk in the attic, Aunt Nina's
stare follows me like a war recruitment
poster, ...
2 Poems by R. A. Allen
LAR Online, Poetry
There are ways to know the mother
will leave. She no longer cooks with Morton salt
though pressures rise like aspirations
and the soup still tastes of tears.
You often find her buried ...
Signs of Impending Matriarchal Departure or Fair? by Alafia Nicole Sessions
LAR Online, Poetry
How Would You Like It
The indignity at the end. I tell myself to tell you.
No one would want this though no one is asked.
Times he was left naked on the too-high bed;
not allowed to eat, or forced ...
2 Poems by Mary Ann Samyn
LAR Online, Poetry
Gravity. [noun]
the natural attraction between physical bodies,
especially when one of the bodies is celestial.
This is how it begins:
gravity has, for a brief ...
Natural Attraction by B.A. Van Sise
LAR Online, Poetry
Because the men keep going missing and we like to wear the pants. We lookgood in tweed and love a long smoke sorting things out before a dark fire.She’s been dead seven decades but her ghost sense burns better than ...
Portrait of Myself as Watson, my Great Grandmother, Sherlock Holmes by Michelle Bitting
LAR Online, Poetry
You were placed like wings are placed
as if they’ll never be needed to leave with
but then you were born
and each time I unwrap your diaper
I consider every ...
Mother Nothing by Elizabeth Metzger
LAR Online, Poetry
Sundays were always the green
of aquarium glass, the smell
of waxed duck pinching the house.
The television splintering
the room like the dry season;
outside, dogs’ perpetual barking.
My ...
KLANG, 2003 by Lyn Li Che
LAR Online, Poetry
