10 poems // March 10

there’s always room for another rose in the garden

1 //

Day’s End // by Olive Franklin

& when the white fish
darts from the basement of the river

& when the rains
kiss the yellow necks of trees

& when the blue morning undresses
to lilac in the kitchen

& when the heron unfolds
the envelope of sky

& when you take my face
between your hands like something you’ve forgotten

I think— I did not waste my life.

2 //

At a Waterfall, Reykjavik // by Eileen Myles

I still feel like
the world
is a piece
of bread

I'm holding
out half
to you.

3 //

Sad // by Jeremy Radin

It is sad to tip the kettle over the cup & discover there is no more tea in the kettle. It is sad when the diner is closed. It is sad when the hawk seizes the rat & sad when the hawk misses. It is sad when the child encounters too early. It is sad when a mother apologizes. It is sad when the aphids have chewed holes in the lacinato kale. It is sad when there is a shopping list taped to a refrigerator. It is sad in the morning, Bach or no Bach. It is sad in winter & depending on the city sadder in summer. It is sad to finish a book & sad to not finish. It is sad to make love imperfectly. It is sad when the body is ready but not the mind. It is sad when [ ] has left the group chat. It is sad when the wrong thing dies. It is sad when it is three in the morning & the wind is howling & the moon is like a burning umbrella oh god who will put up with me

4 //

The Fire // by Joan Larkin

What I loved about you
finally I have forgotten

It was something to do
with your hair
and the late afternoon
light the floor

the molten stripe in the table
Nothing had weight or number

coins apricots windows
everything burning
and not forgotten
so much as fallen

like a husk shining paper
from the burnt grain

5 //

You Asked Me What I Wanted // by Aimee Wai

and I said I want it all. I want to lay on the floor and hang art on my walls. I want to dig my hands into sand and watch it fall back together. I want to make time for everything and do nothing with it. I want to sweat in the shower and scream at the bottom of a pool. I'm hungry and I want it all. I'm hungrier than a bird that swallowed the big blue sky.

6 //

from For M // by Mikko Harvey

I
think I
get so
scared because
I'm greedy -
I want
to hold
onto everything,
the world
wants to
take it
away. What
the fuck.
The number
of hours
we have
together is
actually not
so large.
Please linger
near the
door uncomfortably
instead of
just leaving.
Please forget
your scarf
in my
life and
come back
later for
it

7 //

My Sentimental Afternoon // by Leila Chatti

Around me, the stubborn trees. Here
I was sad and not sad, I looked up
at a caravan of clouds. Will you ever
speak to me again, beyond
my nightly resurrections? My desire
displaces, is displaced. The sun
unrolls black shadows
which halve me. I stand
very still so as not to startle
the song in the branches.
It’s true: I am learning to believe
there are beautiful things
never meant for me.

8 //

In Oslo // by Sophia Walsh

There is clean air and birch trees whose
leaves are beginning to turn. To contact you
or not—I am trying to decide.
I no longer understand the terms of
our intimacy—if it could even be called that.
Ours. Intimacy.
Jenny’s father serves me pickled
herring on bread with butter. I will buy
today’s issue of Le Monde. I will make various
decisions, all pointing me in one direction or
another. There is an attempt to get closer
to you, and then there is the rest.

9 //

from One Poem // by Sophie Robinson

i shouldn’t have taken what i took the way i took it but listen:
wherever in the world
if i never see you again
always on your way
somewhere i will love you
gently
the whole length
of my life
i want nothing
for you
but endless poetry
easy ppl
slow morning
strong coffee
dynamic emoji
time to read
dancing dog
uncracked screen
mountain
bunny
a million years
deep sense of peace
& somebody
who loves you
for free
when she sees
your animal grace
your swagger
the way you open fruit </3
o! i am glad
to have known you
my devastating weakness
my white rat
my river of gold
& my old
wild
american
heart xxx

10 //

from For Saundra // by Nikki Giovanni

so i thought again
and it occurred to me
maybe i shouldn't write
at all
but clean my gun
and check my kerosene supply

perhaps these are not poetic
times
at all