Engagement, baby’s mittens Engagement, baby’s mittens, ocean floor, Palermo rose, Lake Tahoe, timid white, Iguana green, blue echo, sycamore, Unspoken love, dark lilac, nighty night. Tomato tango, tint of mint, rustique, Petunia, modern romance, wild mush- Room, vintage claret, Celtic folklore, week- End get-away, alfresco, royal flush. Plum martini, Oklahoma wheat; Confetti, evening skyline, sun-kissed […]

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Please Excuse This Poem

“the vast majority of us were off somewhere with someone in a dark corner doing godknowswhat” As teenagers, our first encounters with poetry had profound impact. While editing Please Excuse This Poem, an anthology of contemporary poetry curated with young adults in mind, we were constantly reminded of the power of poetry to change, enrich, […]

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Stefania Heim A Table That Goes On For Miles-2

Here, I give the feelings to my grandfather. The impossibility of believing that his country, his town, (his life, his memories, his friends, his romances) exist…the collision of reality and fantasy that constitute the immigrant's longing. Poetry A TABLE THAT GOES ON FOR MILES The women’s legs look better every year. His basement, still strung […]

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© Mark Strand.

Because it’s really that place which is unreachable, or mysterious, at which the poem becomes ours, finally… A personal note. For all of what seemed, between 2001 and 2007, the ugliest of hate feuds, I turned to four poets—not for solace, but for connection. I was in Jerusalem then, a city that too often gives […]

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This is no place for autumn and the pumpkins wonder how they got to this patch in this lot, in this city. Lucky This is no place for autumn and the pumpkins wonder how they got to this patch in this lot, in this city. They’re wincing at the weather, looking up my skirt, making […]

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No Kingdom So little wakes you — why should a little rain, or my leaving to stand under it and naked because I can, all neighbors down, at last down, for the dreaming, and every wasp — daily, the yard’s plague—gone, returned to whatever shingle or board roofs their now thrumless heliport. Tremblefoot, mumbler, you’ve […]

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© Mark Strand.

“Once a book is written, I feel that I have said what I had to say… So I decide that it might be best for me to do something else. Lately, this “something else” has been the making of collages…which now seems to have become a fixed daily activity, and one that I have no […]

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