by Catie Rosemurgy 1 Thank god he stuck his tongue out. When I was twelve I was in danger of taking my body seriously. I thought the ache in my nipple...
by Judith Viorst Mother doesn't want a dog. Mother says they smell， And never sit when you say sit， Or even when you yell. And when you come home ...
by Sarah Lindsay This mound of dirt and the summer are heirs to transfer from what lies before and what lies behind， pinch by pinch. Of the mound， she...
by Shel Silverstein Everything's wrong， Days are too long， Sunshine's too hot， Wind is too strong. Clouds are too fluffy， Grass is too green， ...
by Meena Alexander I was young when you came to me. Each thing rings its turn， you sang in my ear， a slip of a thing dressed like a convent girl white...
by Honorée Fanonne Jeffers There's fairness in changing blood for septet's guardian rhythm， the horn blossoming into cadenza. No good p...
by David Hernandez My condolences to the man dressed for a funeral， sitting bored on a gray folding chair， the zero of his mouth widening in a yawn. N...
by Adam Zagajewski （Translated by Clare Cavanagh） Always caught up in what they called the practical side of life （theory was for Plato）， up to their ...
by Alan Feldman The year I was born the atomic bomb went off. Here I'd just begun， and someone found the switch to turn off the world. In the furn...
by E. E. Cummings my father moved through dooms of love through sames of am through haves of give， singing each morning out of each night my father mo...