Author of Monograph (National Poetry Series, UGA Press) & Ampersand Revisited (National Poetry Series, Fence Books). Posts daily poems by others. he/him
Simeon Berry
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“the slow motion shake of the head the water / running down his chest, / all of this lit like a Poison video: / Cherry Pie his cutoffs his blond hair his air guitar crescendo” —Rebecca Hazelton, “My Husband” @lsupress.bsky.social
“I’ll kiss her in basements / where she takes a break from cutting boxes with a knife // to pull me in by the belt loops, and I’ll kiss her at rush hour / at night in Indiana where it’s still dangerous” — @sarahgreenpoet.bsky.social, “Lines on Trees” @uakronpress.bsky.social
“A cop, / flustered, tugged up his shorts, plunged / a needle into a pale thigh. He hissed / awake like a soda can. The paramedic / spoke slowly in his ear like a lover” —Steven Espada Dawson, “A River is a Body Running” @splitlipthemag.bsky.social splitlipthemag.com/poetry/0821/...
“A blood-encrusted soprano is carried to the cauldron./Eleazer fetches water from the holy spring.//I know you are sometimes passionate./(The minstrel flees the monastery to rescue his king.)//I know you often slam the door.” — @carolinebirduk.bsky.social, “An Opera in One Act” @carcanet.bsky.social
“My impossible hair is no different here. / I know now, even American children / Adore me. Little Helen and Stanton / Take me on my walks; they are like / Cabbage hearts, so small and tough.” —David Keplinger, “Departure’s Particular Handkerchief”
“These girls wear sex like lipstick. I think / this one’s the Undead. Heavy-lidded, / pawing the air like a drugged kitten, / stilettos piercing holes in the scuffed-up / linoleum.” —Melissa Stein, “Aquarium” @ampoetryreview.bsky.social voltagepoetry.com/2014/02/27/j...
“It is the longing that creates the art, or the attempt at art. For that to happen, you need always to not quite be who, or where, you are.” —Paul Kingsnorth, Savage Gods
“I’ve been waiting / for you, you say. / A scary movie called / The Baby starts. / The baby is levitating / above a pond. / You lick your hand / then put it in my pants. / You lick my hand / then put it in your pants.” —Zachary Schomburg, “The Baby” @blackoceanbooks.bsky.social
“The oxy hardly works at all. The refrigerator / rings like a telephone. I hold her hand as another / nonhealer unwraps and anoints her flaming sores.” — @lesleymwheeler.bsky.social, “Extended Release” @tupelopress.bsky.social www.guernicamag.com/extended-rel...
Thanks for John Mulrooney for publishing this bibulous piece about Harold & Maude, Marilyn Monroe, and political euphemisms in @theartsfuse.bsky.social! artsfuse.org/329767/weekl...
