Poetry

Fear is in your bread and you must choke it down. To think of home— the courtyard with its red filigreed rug, the peel-paint walls, how the breeze with its tang of...

He spoke seven languages and was never allowed to leave the country. He’d gone to school in Paris, which made him an enemy of the people. I’m sorry, but...

Ed. Note: Another in our series of poems by writers who participated in Arlington Writers Resist. My anthem is the serenade of birds, sung without regard for map lines delineating...

Ed. Note: Another in our series of poems from poets who participated in Arlington Writers Resist on January 15, 2017 —for the parents of the children at Sandy...

for David Hutto Up there’s the interstate, peeping through trees. Down here among hollows, satellite dishes, a man on his deck guzzles beer, wishes he were driving that highway. His fancy...