By Ocean Vuong
Suppose you do change your life. & the body is more than a portion of night––sealed with bruises. Suppose...
Explore Poems: Birth & Birthdays
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- By Patricia Smith62. You would have been 62. I would have given you a Roosevelt Road kinda time, an all-night jam in ...
- By Charlotte PenceWhat is death to us? We've heard that myth, a ghost story to tell around a camp fire. We're too busy...
- By Forrest GanderAnd then smelling it, feeling before the sound even reaches him, he kneels at cliff's edge and for the...
- By Jan-Henry GrayThe young mother born with the wrong name boards a plane. Flanked by her second and third child, she...
- By Zeina Hashem BeckMy mother says I sure was heaven-sent & determined on making her life hell— cried every afternoon, &...
- By Paisley RekdalAre the drapes drawn open or being closed? Each of the heavy, velvet wings is clasped in the hands of...
- By Devon Walker-FigueroaReed, who’s got one strike left before he gets life, tells me afterbirth is what the cougars are after...
- By Clodagh Beresford DunneWhat happens to a heart after death? It pounds around the rib cage, at last leaps through the sternum...
- By Jenny Zhangmy mother had two vaginas one to birth me and one to keep me inside the first one I had two names my...
- By Angela LeightonIt’s gone thirty years since this light steel disc warmed to his skin, sixty and more since I laid my...
- By J. Jennifer EspinozaI turned twenty-four and dad decided to take another stab at making a man out of me. On his command,...
- By Michael LallyI wait and wonder what I’d do if someone said pick your 60 best poems. Pick all of them? Or any? Maybe...
- By Greg DelantyI’m back again scrutinizing the Milky Way of your ultrasound, scanning the dark matter, the nothingness...
- By Bernadette MayerEcstatic experiences with nature This is an automatic furnace Do not drop or roll Do not handle with...
- By Aracelis Girmaysister was the wolf & could cross easily through the mountain dark to den keen & quivered with the muscular...
- By W. S. GrahamWhat are you going to do With what is left of yourself Now among the rustling Of your maybe best years...
- By Yusef KomunyakaaSay licked clean at birth. Say weeping in the tall grass, where this tantalizing song begins, birds ...
- By Chase TwichellShe was always elsewhere. That’s what Mom wants carved on her stone. When did she first realize there was an Elsewhere...
- By Iliana RochaI was born drunk & paisley, vestige from the womb. My face laughed into itself— eyes sank into earlobe...