#Poetry Wed: “The Ferryman” by Katie Bickham

“The ferryman is counting up his fares
as blood congeals and stains and spills and clots.
It’s cash or coin. No cards. No thoughts and prayers…

I have my work, and up there, they have theirs,
he tells himself, but jumps when he hears shots.
So many. He can’t stand to count the fares.
He navigates a river red with prayers.”

-Read the entire poem at Rattle.

#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: ​”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: “Why We Don’t Have Children” by Anthony Frame

“…We refuse the bruises of blood,
we want to honor the thrust of history, the trust
inside each splitting cell, so we wrap ourselves
within each other, away from the constant sirens.
We fumble our flesh, our mouths wide enough
to swallow the world…”

Read the rest of the poem at Rattle.