Poetry

The Blueprint of the Land


The Blueprint of the Land

by Édgar J. Ulloa Luján

There is no river
but only sand
sand and no river
in the borderlands
There is no river
but only sand
sand and no river
it’s a fantasyland

There is no river
but only sand
sand and no river
in my motherland
There is no river
but only sand
sand and no river
like in Babylon

There is no river
but only sand
sand and no river
but only drugs, guns
and contraband
There is no river
but only sand
sand and no river
but only burritos, narcos
running cheap errands

There is no river
but only sand
sand and no river
but only
a militarized land
There is […]

The Blueprint of the Land2020-06-08T06:48:17+00:00

Where Does Sound Travel?


Where Does Sound Travel?

for David Zeledón

by Margaret Fleming

In Texas, I stand by a baby monitor,
audio waves and linens move in unison.
I watch her chest until I am convinced
she is no longer breathing, her sighs quiet.
I run upstairs to catch the wind in her body.

If this world heard

the way a mother hearkens

to her child—would it listen?

On TV, a Nicaraguan woman carries water
in a milk jug, dumping it on a masked man’s
face. Liquid bullets shower the hot cement.

The Nicaragüenses who taught me to […]

Where Does Sound Travel?2020-06-08T06:48:53+00:00

WAIT


WAIT

…   …   …   …   …   …   …   …   …   …   …   …

…   …   …   …   …   …   …   …   …   …   …   …

…   …   …   …   …   …   …   …   …   …   …   …

…   …   …   …   …   …   …   …   …   …   …   …

…   …   …   …   …   …   …   …   …   …   …   …

…   …   …   …   …   …   …   …   …   …   …   …

…   …   …   …   …   …   …   …   …   …   …   …

…   …   …   …  […]

WAIT2020-06-08T06:49:01+00:00

The Last Cicadas


The Last Cicadas

by Genevieve Betts

The last cicadas thump and buzz
like a souped-up Cadillac.

They really are the most beautiful
plague. I too hum among their

windowpane wings, veined
like lace on whirring blades.

Sugar skulls commence their séance,
flicker pigments in candied ambiance.

The desert’s hot verve vacillates
at the last lurch of summer,

oases wavering in their distant trick
I fall for again and again.

[…]

The Last Cicadas2020-06-08T06:49:07+00:00

Poloñius


Poloñius

by Cameron Espinoza

Elsewhere my words are sounds
Sharp unsubtle manifestations of wind
My shaking hands orchestrate obtuse keys— dictating tune

Overwhelming

My wit
My lips
My cadence

The dulled wife’s lament
“it” sits
Cross-dressed down
Puzzled formulaic void epiclets of sepulchral sound

The traveler’s age-old apartheid
Administered by Moses and British Airways
Drowned by the red-sea’s second cousin—  twice removed

About the author…

Cameron Espinoza is a first-year graduate student in NYU’s GSAS. While she studies Politics, she is passionate Literature and has written on the use of rhetoric in the works of […]

Poloñius2020-06-08T06:49:14+00:00

PARANOIA


PARANOIA

by Lukpata Lomba Joseph

What smidgen of thought
Propagates in this wide helix,
Whirling and birthing spiral envelopes
With all reason in its service?
What infinitesimal impression,
Sits with honour at the pivot
Of this growing gyre?
Last night’s dream led the way,
Where your bones were crushed in a wrecking Sienna;
Then the age long myth behind dreams crept in,
Then a baritone voice burst in:
“Could this be a revelation?”
And the widening helix terminates
At the pastor’s last chats from the holy writs,
It was a sermon on dreams,
“Dreams are fore-scenes of reality,” he said
Then paranoia gave a wide grin,
As your trip to Lagos beach […]

PARANOIA2020-06-08T06:49:20+00:00

Halloween Night


Halloween Night

by Jennifer Luckenbill

The Oklahoma wind
whistles its quiet tune
outside the window,
smooth as butter
on freshly browned toast.
Music to drown
the thumps and bumps
of a late Halloween night.

Whispered melodies
too soft for the ear,
breaking the wall
between body and spirit,
between living and dead.

No costumed faces
at this hour
to scare away the spirits,
so they press faces against windows,
the ghost equivalent
of puppy-dog eyes,
begging for the warmth of the living
to press against their bodies,
a moment’s feeling,
there and gone.

About the author…

Jennifer Luckenbill is a freelance writer, editor, and artist currently living in […]

Halloween Night2020-06-08T06:49:33+00:00

Erdélyi Táncok


Erdélyi Táncok

by Matthew Dischner

My cats prick up at the sound of Bartók,

their tails arrhythmically conducting

an uneven harmonic minor

as they yowl with the violins,

circling for supremacy over a discarded hair tie.

About the author…

A disciple of the experimental humanities and freelance historian, Matthew Dischner’s writings mix his passion for poetry and obsession with the natural world. A graduate of NYU’s recently transformed Draper Program, Matthew splits his time between the […]

Erdélyi Táncok2020-06-08T06:49:40+00:00

G-spot


G-spot

by Savannah Trent

I wanted to write a poem for them:
the perfect women
cocktail & slippers handy,
who wait for orgasm,

know compulsion’s other name,
price of spray cleaners & ant
traps, who know to tempt the mouse
not with cheese, but with chocolate.

Midwestern casseroles
as big as football fields.
How do you like your eggs?

Extra yolky, please
tuck in the corners.

Thanksgiving green beans with
French’s extra crispy onions
turkey gristle with a side of
football. Red-lipped smiles open
wide. I made it just for you
don’t you like it?

Better home & garden
semi-homemade sensation
double stuffed pastry

hide […]

G-spot2020-06-08T06:49:46+00:00

Dream at Twelve Noon


Dream at Twelve Noon

by Tor Strand

I am asked how much longer there will be light and know immediately, something to do with how the trees enter the sky on a mountain with my family and two friends climbing to an open dirt patch they touch and kiss me then with the sweet realness of a dream where everyone speaks and listens and eclipses—how much longer, my dear teacher wonders at the grayscale world, heavy with rain and I whisper in her ear violet, that dark […]

Dream at Twelve Noon2020-06-08T06:50:00+00:00