Poem of the Day
Everything That Rises
By Alicia Wright
One after another the angel of history
Women: rural, 9, 1536, 1547, 1550, the angel of history
1551—52, 1559; in business, 147; and the angel of history
One after another the angel of history
Women: rural, 9, 1536, 1547, 1550, the angel of history
1551—52, 1559; in business, 147; and the angel of history
How lucky I am tonight to be holding a lantern
at this railroad crossing in the middle of America
and not clinging to a leaky raft on the north Atlantic,
In 1027, not far from Bernburg,
eighteen peasants were seized
by a common delusion.
my boys & I refused to believe it was Michael who didn’t make it through the night even though the cameras strewn across the sky showed the mansion lawn specked with red sirens & from my own covers I imagined him to be simply asleep the way I slept
When the man can’t sleep, he builds
a matchstick replica of Auschwitz
in his basement, working from memory.
most people have absolutely the wrong idea of how to go about cutting a throat, the right way to do it on animals anatomically similar to humans such as dogs, sheep, veal calves and very young pigs—emphatically not on full-grown pigs
I
they have no gathering places
for taking of council nor
agreements
He said: “Straight from the horse’s mouth.”
He said that was straight from the horse’s mouth.
He said it straight from the horse’s mouth.
The bullet has almost entered the brain:
I can feel it sprint down the gunbarrel
rolling each bevel around like a hoop
I am so cold tonight. Lend me your fever
to mull my long pastures of crumbling ice.
Warm the jagged mountains in my spine
They called it a landslide as though
everything shifted and the weak
and strong alike were buried alive.