In Betweener
Anselm Berrigan
                       The sun got its new angel wings tee-shirt

                               smudged with the sandbox’s finest

                                   demi-mud. This would render

                           appearances partial, with a cornball’s

                        incongruence. Sidewalk chalk radioactive

                  Well, we’ll never write that letter to

            the lozenges, I mean that shrinking

postcard on the way to Saturn

    Will someone please hand me

                               my martini, so I can

                                   make it through this

     The                                                   awful ordeal?

         title                                        Name there

            placed                                             in the palm

                    the                                                             of your natural

                 action                                                                     tremor

                     off-center

    rendering that floating

                green eye, well

                                it floated

                        off onto some

                bell somewhere

                      Yesterday’s duck

                                        seemed to have three parents: a vulture

                                                                                                a turkey, & a something

                                                                                                                                                  a plastic

                                                                                                                                            shapeliness

unaccountably

                  signaling Dark Star

                                Winged creatures

                                                suspend shyness




                                                                    & we were stabbed

                                                                                        with permission

                                                                                  all over

                                                                        & again, the assemblages

                                                                                    of guilt

                                                                                frozen in dispossession

                                                            Did that closet just murmur?

“No mere solar beam can harm the lord of photosynthesis”

“No barrier can stop one who dwells between all boundaries”

“Welcome back to life, my former foes”

“& be tied to the end of your string / flying in the air babes at night”
from the book DON'T FORGET TO LOVE ME / Wave Books
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Forward Forward
Color headshot of poet Victoria Chang
"Victoria Chang Wins Forward Prize For Best Collection"

"All four of the 2024 Forward prizes for poetry have been awarded to women: Victoria Chang won the £10,000 prize for best collection; Marjorie Lotfi’s book was named best first collection; Cindy Juyoung Ok won the prize for the best single poem (written); and Leyla Josephine was awarded the prize for the best single poem (performed). The four winners, who will receive a total prize pot of £17,000, 'demonstrate that poetry is more vital than ever', said poet Jane Clarke, who was on this year’s judging panel.'"

via THE GUARDIAN
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Cover image of Philip Metres' book, Fugitive/Refuge
What Sparks Poetry: Philip Metres on "Qasida for Abdel Wahab Yousif"

"The qasida begins with human longing. The moderns didn’t invent it! It was in the human heart. This is the nasīb, which means 'fate,' the poet is in a nostalgic mood. Sometimes, pursuing the beloved, the poet will come upon the remains of a camp, the beloved’s caravan, causing a consideration of what has passed. If it begins with longing and its endless distances (thanks, Robert Hass), it doesn’t stay there, but rather moves into the trouble of the world." 
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