#Poetry Wed: “Leaving Is A Playground Is Not Love” by Emily Koehn

“It is the indecision of a seesaw. The wood chips. You told me never again live in
tender. The wood has grain as if I could engrave. For you a monkey bar. For me
straw and light. For you the scurry of an ant. The sky spreads out like an arm…”

Read the entire poem at Thrush.

#Poetry Wed: “Skinned” by Katie Knoll

“My uncle is skinning peaches for cobbler because I stink
like city, he says, like iron and exhaust and a girl should know
the taste of something with the sun still inside it, because when I leave
this house and go back to my mama and she breathes me in
he wants me to smell like she used to, like dirt….”

Read the entire poem at Rattle.

#Poetry Wed: “The Truths Only Starlings Will Speak” by Sara Henning

“Wings rutting through dust like glittering,

hardened sky, I’m fool enough to believe

this bird’s dying, not sunning—body unfurling

like a gasoline stain, acrid iridescence rushing

asphalt that could fry an egg to savory silk…”

Read the entire poem at Thrush.

#Poetry Wed: ​”Self-pity” by Cecilia Woloch

“My sister calls all birds suicidal.
Our mother sits in her big green chair,
too weary, even, to talk on the phone.
All afternoon it’s rained and rained—
all the damp world weeping, so I’ve thought.
Self-pity stinks, my mother says…”

Read the​ entire poem at Rattle

#Poetry Wed: “Lingua Franca” by Dawn Potter

“the washing-machine repairman asks
if I’ve saddled my sons with biblical names
on purpose the plumber presses me to admire
his sculptures the electrician wonders
if I have skills in patent law the driver
of the propane truck desires geographical
wisdom the contractor inquires about the fashions
of poetry…”

Read the entire poem at Salamander.