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Jeffrey McDaniel

The Quiet World In an effort to get people to lookinto each other’s eyes more,and also to appease the mutes,the government has decidedto allot each person exactly one hundredand sixty-seven words, per day. When the phone rings, I put it to my earwithout saying hello. In the restaurantI point at chicken noodle soup.I am adjusting… Continue reading Jeffrey McDaniel

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Contemporary · Open Mic · Passage · Performance Poetry · Poetry · Slam Poetry · Spoken Word · Spoken Word Poet

Tim Seibles

Slow Dance Some days I can go nearly an hourwithout thinking of the tasteof your mouth. Right now, I’m at schoolwatching teenagers fidget through a test.Outside, the sky is smoky and streets are wetand two grackles step lightly in yellow grass. Two weeks ago in Atlantic CityI stood on the boardwalkand looked out across the… Continue reading Tim Seibles

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American Culture · American Literature · Classic · Collection · Contemporary · Excerpt · Fragment · LGBT · Open Mic · Passage · Performance Poetry · Poetry · Queer · Slam Poetry · Spoken Word

Andrea Gibson

I am not looking for roses.I want to break like a fever.I want to break like the Berlin Wall.I want to break like the cloudsso we can see every fearless star,how they never speak guardrail,how they only say fall. — Andrea Gibson, from “Pole Dancer,” Pole Dancing to Gospel Hymns. (Write Bloody Publishing June 1,… Continue reading Andrea Gibson

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American Culture · American Literature · Classic · Collection · Excerpt · GLBT · LGBT · Open Mic · Passage · Performance Poetry · Poetry · Queer · Slam Poetry · Spoken Word

Lauren Zuniga

We just have too much lightning crammed into our hearts. Just want someone to put her ear to our chest and tell us how far away the storm is. — Lauren Zuniga, from “Dear Lemon Engine II,” The Smell of Good Mud. (Write Bloody Publishing; First Edition edition March 15, 2012)

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American Culture · American Literature · Contemporary · Online Anthology · Online Magazine · Open Mic · Performance Poetry · Periodical · Poetry · Slam Poetry · Spoken Word

Buddy Wakefield

Conviencience Stores We both know the smell of a convenience store at 4 a.m. like the backsof alotta hands.  She sells me trucker crack/Mini-Thins (it’s like Vivarin).She doesn’t make me feel awkward about it.She can tell it’s been a long drive and it’s only gonna get longer.Offers me a free cup of coffee, but I never… Continue reading Buddy Wakefield

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Classic · Collection · Contemporary · Excerpt · Fragment · Native-American Culture · Native-American Literature · Open Mic · Passage · Performance Poetry · Poetry · Slam Poetry · Spoken Word

Natalie Díaz

Despair has a loose daughter.I lay with her and read the body’s boneslike stories. I can tell you the year-long mythof her hips, how I numbered stars,the abacus of her mouth. —  Natalie Díaz, from “Prayers or Oubliettes,” When My Brother Was an Aztec. (Copper Canyon Press; 59016th edition May 8, 2012)  

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