Tuesday poem #701 : Noah Sparrow : Excessive Positioning (excerpts)

 

 

In one evening we are on
a shoreline by the black sea
that has no black sand
or water or anything like that
except sometimes sky and we
can make it romantic even if
we got chased by nazis after
going into one of their shops
accidentally and I was very
scared for you not only
because of your Jewishness
but predominately because
of how distracted you were
with the material of what
was around your thumb hovering
by a small keychain or something
of the like 

Even so when we were
running we were mostly
alone in a way that made me
think we’d stay tan for
the rest of our lives yet
winter is always now
and my skin is falling
off my hands
like the blowing sand and
I’m the one with all the
job rejections a person could get
And we’ve both gained weight
more so me than you
it’s all a good thing because
we are getting comfortable
and
the sun is getting brighter
every year
which we saw on Mount Eden
once
on top of the mountain
and even though I was pissed
in the moment and sleep
deprived, I wish we didn’t cheat
on the mountain and instead
climbed it up ourselves the
way you’re supposed to,
but in the end it was a good
call because we had a good
chat on the bus ride there,
didn’t we?

 

 

 

Noah Sparrow has been recently exiled from Montreal and is now based in Edinburgh, Scotland. His chapbook SPECTACLE/SPECTATOR is out with above/ground press, and a second, Here I am Dying at an Average Pace, is forthcoming with Cactus Press in late 2026. He has work published with The Fiddlehead and has been shortlisted for the Montreal International Poetry Prize. You can find him at noahsparrow.com

the Tuesday poem is curated by rob mclennan

 

Tuesday poem #700 : Suzette Bishop : A Dream about Having Cancer

 

 

The doctors don’t use the word “cancer”,
they circle around it, instead,
but it sounds and looks like cancer to me,
what they are showing me on the x-ray,
cells out of control, a cluster of them like a sac of fish eggs
in the transference of x-ray light and shadings,
and it’s in a bad place,
at one point along my right hip
switching to my right jaw,
We’d have to take out some of your skull. 

There was a long pause before the conversation,
one doctor starting to tear up,
getting up from her desk,
bringing over the emotional support animal,
the black bulldog who ran over from the neighbor’s
yesterday. 

The examining room closes in during that pause,
and closes in more as the two doctors
talk around cancer.
They can’t offer me options, hope,
surgery just won’t work.
I remember pain in my hip,
in my jaw. 

Later, we’re all in a commercial,
me in a scarf, living life to the fullest
in my last months,
praise from my doctors about my bravery,
being inspiring,
a message about this full,
final time-room.

 

 

 

Suzette Bishop has published three poetry books and five chapbooks, most recently, Were-Jag. Her poems have appeared in many literary magazines and anthologies, including Corpus Callosum, Offcourse, The Writing Disorder, Heavy Feather Review, The Antioch Review, Fugue, WAVES, and Borderlands and been finalists in the Northwind Writing Award and contests at Black Fox Literary Magazine and So to Speak. One poem earned an Honorable Mention in the Coalition of Texans with Disabilities Contest and, another, First Place in the Spoon River Poetry Review Editors’ Prize. She lives in Laredo, Texas.

the Tuesday poem is curated by rob mclennan

Tuesday poem #699 : Samuel Vriezen : Second Ode to the European Union

 

 

unbegun continent condemning one
          to improvise, acrobatic
                     deficit, its questions 

commands, ious in the night
          of tourism, sells its last
                     peak above water level 

to the last bidder, all enter-
          prise put off, yet ever greater
                     masses at the gate, at a loss, 

writing off the future, unfinished
          crowd, powers in the night
                     of number indecisively 

defined, [you and I] dis-
          posed of, ever polishing, a trace
                     near the sea, we 

a stray demand, final
          hard workers, groundless,
                     rate rising on the beach 

and appeals at lip level, the origins
          as words go back and forth
                     an anacoluthon, discharged 

and forced to settle, in
          ancient cities, illicit
                     promises that all’s not done

 

 

(to Frank Keizer)

Samuel Vriezen (1973) is a composer, poet, performer, writer living in Amsterdam. He has composed music to texts by Rob Halpern (Disaster Songs, for the David Kweksilber Big Band), Peter Gizzi (Vincent, Homesick for the Land of Pictures, for Ensemble Scordatura) and Gertrude Stein (for Ensemble Dedalus and Aurélie Nyirabikali Lierman, libretto adaptation by Adam Frank). His collection De harmonie der scheuren (The Harmony of the Cracks) was awarded De Grote Poëzieprijs 2026, one of the most important poetry awards in the Dutch language. He is currently working on albums of very extensive algorithmic electronic music, which he publishes on Bandcamp. 

the Tuesday poem is curated by rob mclennan