We’re all very excited to share with you the winners of the 2020 Award for New Poets, selected by the stellar emerging poets Jake Skeets, Camonghne Felix, and Paige Lewis. Today, we have “The Body Walks Through Grief Towards God”…
An ode to the “brine and whimsy” of cooked greens, Ashia Ajani’s new poem reaches for the belly, for fullness. When so many understand the ache of literal emptiness, what else should poetry be about? collards The pot stays on.…
At the center of our dying is a “Palindrome,” Isabella Piedad Escamilla’s new poem argues, a creature within a creature. With gothic urgency, the work wants to see what’s crawling around inside your body. Palindrome A squirrel passing through a…
So excited to share with you the 1st place winner of the 2020 Frontier Industry Prize, selected by Daniel Slager, Peter LaBerge, and Carmen Giménez Smith! Please enjoy this stunner by Michelle Phuong Ho, who takes home the $3000 prize.…
We’re all very excited to share with you the winners of the 2020 Frontier Industry Prize, selected by Daniel Slager, Peter LaBerge, and Carmen Giménez Smith. Today, we have a new poem by Chaun Ballard. Stay tuned for our winner…
We’re all very excited to share with you the winners of the 2020 Frontier Industry Prize, selected by Daniel Slager, Peter LaBerge, and Carmen Giménez Smith. Today, we have “Bad Dream with My Grandmother’s Stroke” by Adedayo Agarau. Stay tuned…
Mae Ramirez is a talent to watch—her “migraineurs” reaches into your scalp and pulls out a new name for god with each handful of hair. migraineurs momma pulls my hair so hard i can hear the world in misty shards…
“I wanted to become brutish,” Austin Tucker’s speaker says, and in today’s chaotic reality, who is above disagreeing? Who is above, “Self-Portrait as a Personal Statement” seems to ask, reattaching themselves to life by whatever means necessary? Self-Portrait as…
Grace H. Zhou’s “magical dark” exists on the tension between the fairy tales we tell ourselves and the truth of how we treat our most vulnerable—”truth is a screw in the wood / of time,” she says, and she means…
Perry Janes reaches right into our technology-soaked bodies and unearths the flesh that aches for air, the “Fat tumor blooming below the shoulder/ that I kiss to keep well-loved / and benign.” A scroll, a techno-consummation manifesto lit by hundreds of individual…
