the editorial staff's blog

Rope, poem by Peggy Ann Tartt

Whether braided, twisted or coiled,
Bast fiber, strong as muscle,
Is useful for holding back a mob,
Dragging cars out of ditches
And in the hands of the South
In the 1930s, for lynching
If looped and knotted to any strong tree.


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Modern tale of love, poem by Lana Hechtman

Love as shrink wrap
nearly air-tight
or so she thought
he found a way to wriggle free
without her seeing
then wriggle back in again


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Call me by my true names, Thich Nhat Hanh, Translated from vietnamese by Hoa Pham

Don't say that I will depart tomorrow --
even today I am still arriving.
Look deeply: every second I am arriving
to be a bud on a Spring branch,
to be a tiny bird, with still-fragile wings,


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The Face of the Red-Haired Beauty, poem by Karen Daniels

Her heart knows this man from long before, passed years,
nearly a thousand since then.
Like a storm he raided—
burning her home,
stealing her virginity and leaving,
as if it were his right to take her known life away.


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