for Cairo
......
Because I don’t want to indict my memory, I indict August. I accuse it of opening the door to the dream as I dreamed it. I was indifferent to the heat. Hungered for your touch like salt. ...
August by Sara Elkamel
LAR Online, Poetry
Instead of horns, think cello. Slow saw
of the bowstring, sing me an acre
of weeping spruces, a winter with red
details, the reek of a rotted tongue.
I swear I’m not as simple as the stories
make ...
The Wolf as Pick-Up Artist by Emily Rose Cole
LAR Online, Poetry
In the last hour of night, I lean into
a book that multiplies its pages.
A settling and a continuum:
bedding down of a sedentary body
and a story of an expanding universe.
For nearly three months I’ve ...
On an Island (New York City) by Joseph O. Legaspi
LAR Online, Poetry
After Children
Looking down at her,
dusk lace on one cream leg
a delicate form cast onto the white bed.
She looks like miles of divinity,
her black hair ...
After Children by Cristina Medina
LAR Online, Poetry
Riddle of the Seeker
How to love a blooming orchard
if you won’t eat its sour apples.
To ask for scented roses if you hate
the shit it feeds on. You know a pond ...
Riddle of the Seeker by Beverly Burch
LAR Online, Poetry
Bright Clutter
Because I read about space junk and glimpsed that image
of a Tesla, mannequin at the wheel as it shot past Mars,
today I see my nephew floating in the ocean. He travels
as molecules ...
Bright Clutter by Susan Cohen
LAR Online, Poetry
Pastoral
What to say of this era, which carries a blade in the pouch
of its cheek? RIP last year’s cactus. I still douse it in blue pixels
of Miracle Gro and run my thumb like a lover
under the ...
Pastoral & Palinode by Tyler Mills
LAR Online, Poetry
Awake
This morning I bramble toward waking—
alarm alarm alarm snarling my dreams like little girls
around a pile of marbles arguing quitsies,
no quitsies. This morning I don’t know. This morning
I ...
Awake by Kerrin McCadden
LAR Online, Poetry
After the pink blossoms surrender & parachute,
Thousands of thumbnail size peaches overpopulate the branches.
I know they will naturally thin with the first harsh rain.
In early July, when the fruit is the size ...
The Beekeeper by Bruce Cohen
LAR Online, Poetry
