JACKSON HOLBERT Fall
Linnets learn / their songs by the sea
Weekly poems, selected by the editors. Featuring new work as well as poems from our rich archives.
Linnets learn / their songs by the sea
eight rabbits in reins settle their / cottontail feet in the molasses earth / and begin their whimsical dancing
Leaf shadows vibrate on the humus. / A woodpecker rattles its brain for a taste.
Late morning & the world burns.
We were brown and immigrant. We drove a Volkswagen and sang songs in the hymnals of white people. We loved these songs. And god was pinned to the underside of my skirt like a blood orchid.
I stay for the bayou. I stay for the river.
I can talk to you about what it means to be Asian American on the Blackland Prairie ecosystem. It means: I want to defend the sky.
We wanted to see if the house was still standing, still holding space, still breathing ghosts.
Shadows drink their bodies up then slip
away. Everyone out there is saying cheese.
how many / times must I be broken and reassembled!