Exploding Head Syndrome
You are finally an adult and living with roommates in a house with a rickety banister and soft spots on the floor beneath the wrinkled carpet when your head begins exploding at night. First, ...
2 Poems by Cynthia Marie Hoffman
LAR Online, Poetry
In Heaven There Will Be No Bodies
which exist to tempt us, and move us
toward grace. I try and imagine
a bodiless place, full of holographic angels
and saints, walking through clouds or ...
In Heaven There Will Be No Bodies by Megan Pinto
LAR Online, Poetry
Just the other night
when a friend asked me Did that really happen I said, I think so
When I was about 9
lawn chairs goggles ketchup packets towels soggy paperbacks suntan oil twisted up into the ...
The Deep End, Rewind by Marietta Brill
LAR Online, Poetry
Twenty-Five
We were genuine
naugahyde when we met,
which is to say
we knew how to fake
our real feelings
with a side of vulnerability.
Sex helped, then ...
Two Poems by Fritz Ward
LAR Online, Poetry
ROWING, AND THEN LIGHT
The lines given me by the river, I’ll leave to the river.
Islands of sky flicker the brim, and then
light
on the tangled marsh.
Light where ...
Two Poems by Molly Spencer
LAR Online, Poetry
The trees are very unhappy to be trees,
unhappiness along my street, ancient live oaks.
Just like people, they long to be something else.
No one asked a cloud to be a cloud
or me human, a man. I’d ...
Cat at My Front Door Looking In by Peter Cooley
LAR Online, Poetry
..............................—for my mother (1923 – 2021)
You never felt as close
to the new shoveled earth as when,
echoed thud on wood still fresh
as the rending of ribbon pinned
over the ...
Translating the Dead by Nancy Naomi Carlson
LAR Online, Poetry
Trash
When I walk during the pandemic, I study trash. First day
of school, no children on the street, high school shuttered. I wear
my dead mother’s raincoat. No one likes when I call her my dead ...
Trash by Nicole Cooley
LAR Online, Poetry
After the fires south of here but everywhere for life
left in the zone, a hundred-and-forty-five millimetres
of rain fell in about sixty hours and did the impossible — flooded
the side of the ...
On Helen Frankenthaler’s On the Cusp (1985) and the White-faced Heron, Circa… by John Kinsella
LAR Online, Poetry
