Tuesday, January 18, 2022

Tuesday poem #459 : Katie Naughton : debt ritual: utopia



an orientation toward evening
okay the sun is going down first
golden purples of snow the late

stage for being this end of storm
says one way to be is you two

and a baby and an apartment
and in the afternoon you go out

all together I mean
it’s possible to move through time

and space together and money’s
adjacency to this

incidental but not transcendent
so a child does not know

at some point what it is
so the body’s organic

life as well walking without
money the sky does glow

blue and deep and bright
where clouds part after sunset

going back inside money
does buy this place

of rest and warmth




Katie Naughton is the author of the chapbook Study (above/ground press, 2021). Her poetry has been published or is forthcoming in Bennington Review, Michigan Quarterly Review, Jubilat, Tagvverk, and elsewhere. She is at work on two collections of poems, “Debt Ritual” and “the real ethereal,” which was a finalist for the 2021 Nightboat Poetry Prize and Autumn House Press Book Prize. She is the publicity editor for Essay Press, editor and project manager at the HOW(ever) and How2 Digital Archive Project (launching in 2022), and founder of Etcetera, a web journal of reading recommendations from poets (www.etceterapoetry.com). She lives in Buffalo, NY, where she is a doctoral candidate in the Poetics program at SUNY – Buffalo.

the Tuesday poem is curated by rob mclennan

Tuesday, January 11, 2022

Tuesday poem #458 : Meghan Kemp-Gee : A REMINDER



Inside you remains the one-two
march, the full, the fullest
sentence, when the judge says

You, behold what’s left here
on the mediation table,

Here the knife, the rabbit.



Meghan Kemp-Gee lives somewhere between Vancouver BC and Fredericton NB. She writes poetry, comics, and scripts of all kinds. She co-created the webcomics Contested Strip and Space Heroines of El-Andoo, and her short comics and stories have been published in numerous anthologies. Her poetry has recently appeared in Copper Nickel, Rising Phoenix Review, Tincture, Stone of Madness, Altadena Poetry Review, Anomaly, and Rejection Letters. She also teaches composition and plays ultimate frisbee. You can find her on Twitter @MadMollGreen.

the Tuesday poem is curated by rob mclennan

Tuesday, January 04, 2022

Tuesday poem #457 : Wayne Miller : WHAT I KNOW ABOUT TIRANA



Tirana is a heavy disc of silence
slipped between the mountains and the sea.
Beneath that silence:

thumbing car horns,
particles of language sailing on the air.
In the towering trees

above the Lana River, a cloud
of chirping so dense its outline
can almost be traced in the waxy green.

The children in the schoolyard
are a wellspring of sound,
and in the museum

a swallow caught in the upper gallery
pulls circles around the room
as if on a string. What else?

The muezzin’s call
is light glinting off a needle. What else?
Inside the chessbox of this poem,

old men are walking arm-in-arm
across a square, the medieval castle
has grown luminous

with shopping. What else?
The city has slipped again beneath itself.
What else? A travel poem

is like a discharged patient
recalling the days he spent with nurses—
their voices that brushed

against him for simple things,
having covered such a distance
just to cross the room.



Wayne Miller is the author of five poetry collections, most recently We the Jury (Milkweed, 2021) and Post- (2016), which won the UNT Rilke Prize and the Colorado Book Award. He has co-translated two books by the Albanian writer Moikom Zeqo—most recently Zodiac (Zephyr, 2015), which was shortlisted for the PEN Center USA Award in Translation—and he has co-edited three books, most recently Literary Publishing in the Twenty-First Century (Milkweed, 2016). He teaches at the University of Colorado Denver, co-directs the Unsung Masters Series, and edits Copper Nickel. 

the Tuesday poem is curated by rob mclennan