This week we’re bringing you some poems that I’ve kept in my back pocket. These are the kinds of poems that ask you to observe the immediate world — a pan that still sizzles when removed from heat, elderly hair dye, an animal tooth for a necklace, and a government that can hear but cannot see. It is within these ordinary observations that Maura Lee Bee finds revelations: the unspoken strength of a mother as guide, how fear is instilled even in distance, and the value of a face remembered.
This week’s poem is brought you by ex-co-workers at an insurance agency in New York, NY. While employed as a customer service representative, I often received complaints from individuals with bizarre company names or intriguing personal names. Once a week, at minimum, I would shout out across the cubicle: Oh. My. God. This Broker Has The […]
This week’s poem is brought you by ex-co-workers at an insurance agency in New York, NY. While employed as a… Read more New Poem by Ex-Co-Workers
When I was invited to edit They, I couldn’t quite figure out where to begin. There was a quick email… Read more New Poems by Conyer Clayton