Hope
In the woods, in the deep hole I dug, beneath the power cable and the roots of box elder trees, down among the
Gordon Grice
Filter / Sort
For This Time, At Least
As darkness descends, this time in-between, when stars are not yet lit, the moon lingering far away, I
Ken Hada
Hay Maker
By mechanics, lanes of yellow vanish into the bailer’s munching mouth, while out the other end, like some
Sandy Hiortdahl
Dream Catcher
“And where are you from?” The inevitable vacation question. And I want to say Not that Oklahoma, The one you
Xandra Kaste
Safe
Added a padlock to the fence, I am safe, nine different passwords, I am secure. New model with
Landry Harlan
Summer Leaving Oklahoma Before the Advent of Global Warming
Some morning in late September he’d stumble in the diner ragged as a dandelion in a dust storm: ripped
Nick Norwood
Plane Cowboy
The man in a yellow shirt behind me His head too close to mine above worn navy-blue faux-leather, above the
Shandhini Raidoo
Haul
Their two-ton Jimmy staggers now, rolls and wobbles on creaky springs, creeping over berms on a
Nick Norwood
This Alley
May 2013, Oklahoma County Highway’s littered – Broken wasp mid upturned beetles, kindling
Allison Adelle Hedge Coke
Then
Black Blizzard—hundreds of thousands of years to create the topsoil. Red from Oklahoma, Texas grey, brown Nebraska.
Allison Adelle Hedge Coke
Eschatology
The neighborhood dogs are barking again: a chain letter cha-cha-cha that begins blocks away and rolls through the
Markham Johnson
It’s Too Late
For the houseboat in Amsterdam. The snake of blue through the city will wind without me turn to ice
Britton Gildersleeve
Oil Change
Oil filters into fingertips and under my nails, stains my callouses, clothes, driveway. Now it’s five
Randall Weiss
Fireflies
Behind the backyard in red gold afternoon, shadows from the freeway wash against the side of forty-year-old homes
David Beebe
Cain’s
Down at the music floor where they sell beer with plastic collars and gauges hide under mullets next to
Casie Trotter
The Bicyclist
Your sweat falls in drops dotting the trail on a map, in a tour along the river, beside the irrigated
Frank Graham
Chet Baker’s Return
night club no time lighted juke box music, pockets of muffled chatter from expectant patrons scatter
Paul Austin
Downtown Sunday Morning
this is where the wind comes to a place where there are no longer plains to bolster the pioneer
Walt Kosty
Home State
somehow you became pixel became less dust and sky turned into newsfeed away from
Nicole Callihan
Lament
oh, woe to the woeful, aloe to the alone, tissues for the tears, this bitch world on its knees, the danger of
Michael Wright
Onehorse, OK, pop. 1,000: Saaaaaaalute
Driving home tonight, I see Loretta Lynn on a casino billboard & take a left turn to
Benjamin Myers
Malissa
1983 A week before, I bought my first maternity gear at the Goodwill, a brown empire-waist polyester top with
Jeanetta Calhoun Mish
Three Poems
The Dream Warrior I am intentional to light never capitulating the stars or the sway of grasses in my
Joe Dale Tate Nevaquaya
Eulogy for Ireland
*** Me, Shrouded in green, white, and orange I wake up tossing up electric blankets in my single-bed
Declan Kiely
A Creek Woman Moves to Northern New York
*** At the market they never have what I need: sofke corn, dried pea hulls, canuche balls wrapped in
Stacy Pratt
Night Hoops
With tar still sludging our fingers from roofing jobs worked through the heat of day, with scratches down our
Benjamin Myers
Anchovies
we’ve come all the way from Oklahoma for locals
Victoria McArtor
Queer as Folk
& then gay marriage was legal in Oklahoma & it was renamed “Oklahomo” & cowboys went broke
Nick Weaver
Fast Forward
As we move yet one more step towards dust Desire fades and jealousy and
Warren Brown
Today I Covet the Light
today i covet the light the undefined grey white cloak of the sky holding the remains of night
Walt Kosty
The French Horn and the Fire Escape
(Written while listening to the Andrew Hill Quintet) The French horn strays, then joins with upside-down notes, the
Bill Turley
Love Smells of a Man Named Floyd
It is difficult to offer up our hearts like raw chicken on a hibachi grill often the chefs are not
Jennifer E. Hudgens
For Rachel, Who Is Not Lost
A seagull on the moon is not lost, She is a student of lunar soils. A cookie in a salad is not lost, It is
Rob Roensch
Two Poems by Grant Matthew Jenkins
Marks Along the river valley who hears the cry of the raptors? Will you avail yourself of the talents at your
Grant Matthew Jenkins
Two Prose Poems by Wayne Zade
My Father Meets Oscar Peterson at the London House, Chicago, 1962 There they are, standing in the soft light at the
Wayne Zade
Three Poems by John Brehm
Progress Report I think about my self- ishness all day
John Brehm
A Lexicon of Trees
The apricot my grandmother planted the day that I was born. She made me fried pies in her
Britton Gildersleeve
Two Poems by Rose McLarney
First in Right A subdivision’s plumbing, a predictable grid, is of greater worth than irrigating the uncertain
Rose McLarney
Homecoming
For Uncle Max Greed, I guess—my father answered me uncharacteristically critical of our ancestors, their
Ken Hada
Three Sonnets
1. Richard Roberts, ca. 1954 He used to hold her down (my mother used to say) and lick. His long, pink tongue would
Randy Roberts Potts
An Apparition and a Refuge
It’s one of those buildings that everyone has seen and many have noted, but hardly anyone can locate. Even those
T. Allen Culpepper
Bookmobile
I always thought I would grow up to work in a Bookmobile. It'd be my job to drive the lumbering green bus through
Angelia Herrin
Work: A Ghazal for Oklahoma
(State Motto: Labor Conquers All Things) I learned about the battle over the lethal drugs on the radio while
Julia McConnell
Cleaning House
I am saying goodbye to my life. Throwing away books, teapots, pens. Saying farewell to my mother’s passport my
Britton Gildersleeve
The Hubble Telescope and the Wild Mustang
What does it mean, that the universe is growing larger, faster? Unlike my life, which seems to be slowing, even as it
Britton Gildersleeve
Only Indians Can Talk to Animals
Snow covered fields with ice hanging from limbs of trees. A doe came walking out from behind a cedar and
Michael Daugherty
Doomed to Repeat
(About the 1921 Tulsa Race Massacre: It is not our failure to remember the past that dooms us to repeat it; it is our
Deborah J. Hunter
The Return
An old man sits in my straight-backed chair salvaged from the curbside trash sits quietly, without shifting
Jim Tolan
The Gentlemanly Art of Pugilism
I punch you in the head. You fall down, unconscious but not quite dead. Thank you. It was
Jim Tolan
Duct Taped Heart
Sometimes I google “art AND love,” and then I click on “Images” and scroll way, way down until I come
Nicole Callihan
Flashes
There was a time when I couldn't write a poem without my mother showing up in it. There she would
Nicole Callihan
Rapture
We are the plastic children, flying toward the sun. We are the infirm rising through rooftops, we are the
Miss Terri Ford
When I was a Kid…
I tortured horny toads when I was a kid I don't feel good about that but I did – I surrounded em with lighter
Doug Claybourne
Nude in the City
Your hands on newspapers, your hands in your hair. Is your body yours to undress? Or is someone across town
Regina DiPerna
Bible Belted: Math
Pro-Black doesn’t mean anti-anything. El Hajj Malik El-Shabazz (Malcolm X) there are at least
Quraysh Ali Lansana
First Lesson in Racism — Mississippi — 1993
here are yr. five year old fingers plucking pecans in front of the trailer here is the lynch rope looming from your
Claire Collins
OG’s and Lemonade
These new cool gangstas aint got nothing on the O.G.’s, The original G.’s, The Pistol packin, dynamite in petite
Keiyetta Guyon
In the Field
The red fox flashes in the field, and the mind wants to stop it. Run the catalogue of what it knows, put a
Michael Madonick
Curled, Slightly
Don’t think because I hid in the bathroom that I didn’t enjoy last night’s office party. I loved your red-ribbon
Tim Carter
The Ease of Trout
where the road descends steeply as it twists like gorgeous wreckage and there is always brightness like
Jeffrey Skemp
Sowing Ohio
Housebound in this town, love yellows. Stay, and watch the walls peel away from their ceilings. Look through this
Rochelle Hurt
The Number of Heaven and Earth
They stole chickens and slaughtered cows they castrated pigs they cut the tails off piglets they followed deer
John Colburn
God Says Yes to Me
I asked God if it was okay to be melodramatic and she said yes I asked her if it was okay to be short and she said
Kaylin Haught
Shoes Without Laces
Eldon Dykes’ father arrived on Sunday nonstop Greyhound bus from Oklahoma for a visit Next morning after
Wilma Elizabeth McDaniel
The Ghost of Hank Williams Returns to Cain’s Ballroom
The last time, he was sitting on a stump in a cone of yellow light and cigarette smoke, and the bats
Markham Johnson
“thrtthr whthrrthms” by Maria Damon
Hear it first. Subscribe to This Land Radio in iTunes. Poetry is transforming this space. friendly
Abby Wendle
The Burden of Being Tate
see brady see brady now a ghost of tulsa’s flitting past wandering the old streets without aim ambition or
Walt Kosty
Through a Country
You, on the one hand, see a land Green and rolling With chalky marble And stretches of yellowed sandstone Patched
Joel Stein
Oklahoma Boyhood
Each time I painted nails Brilliant Blush, Sparkle Silver, I’d land in the bathroom. Larry the Ladle or
Amy Susan Wilson
The B Side
Since April is National Poetry Month, we’re pleased to run poems by a pair of younger writers who participated in the
Bryonia Liggins
Howl for Me
Since April is National Poetry Month, we’re pleased to run poems by a pair of younger writers who participated in the
Nick Weaver
Galarshes
drink me, rain says it’s hard to swallow the whole world dry so drink me everything tastes better in Oklahoma
Jennie Lloyd
New Law Makes Local Poet Nervous
Others have book fests, opera and garden expos. We have gun shows. Ammo. Freedom and now more freedom: open
Jane Vincent Taylor
The Falling
Where I come from, rain is the same thing as love, Falling rarely, and spoken about even less. Daddy tells me the
Preston Wells
Pairings
The taste of red wine and dark chocolate Swirlin’ together inside my mouth is Like smoke escaping from the
Jenny Sullivan
A Year with the Bison
Spring The wallows are full. Egrets range on bison backs --- colors rise
Erin Glanville Brown
Driveway
Again I slid up over the horizon and the lights of Tulsa spread flat out before me. “Ah, there you are,” I
Ron Padgett
Critical Mass
Lifted their bikes up- side down above their thousand heads and cheered locked the grid blocked the
John Brehm
1977 Seminole County
me and my best friend k.t. hurtled down chug holed roads in her green Gran Torino, racing almost as fast as our doped
Jeanetta Mish
Rooftop Raccoons
A triumvirate of sad-eyed raccoons lounging on the roof of an apartment building in Stillwater benignly
T. Allen Culpepper
Cry Baby
You are the cat most like I was as a girl with a soft coat, fine reflexes, fresh eyes. I sat on many porches,
Jane Vincent Taylor
Forever Home on Mind
I wept into the sea; it did not overflow. (Buddhist meditation) Spread out over a great
Kyle Erickson
routine
every evening after the six o’clock i ate dinner, something fast, sitting at the desk. eight tv screens, three
Quraysh Ali Lansana
Commute
A famous architect just passed me. He wore a ponytail and turned the steering wheel with one hand. Maybe he was
Chad Reynolds
Cargo
What is on the train rolling through my city so important the conductor sounds the whistle every other second from
Chad Reynolds
The Buckhorn Inn
That-which-regions is an abiding expanse which, gathering all, opens itself, so that in it openness is
David Bearden
Critical Mass
Lifted their bikes up- side down above their thousand heads and cheered locked the grid blocked the
John Brehm
Hard Luck Okie
This poem was recorded by the Library of Congress at a migrant farmer’s camp in California in the late 1930s. Before
Roy Turner
Housing
House of all day; house on the sea, of doors no one knew how to enter; house of small country and green, green land;
Karen Alayna Thimell
Back Roads
The explosions are always real. Small wheels turn tighter. These stark prairie towns keep the eyes and bones close
Laura Brandenburg
The Deluge
After thirty-four days of rain we wake to mallards navigating the back lawn and four survivor squirrels beached on
Markham Johnson
Shop
Rusted valves and pipes, sleeping gas lines, tables with saw blades rising to railway, vintage dust taking in streams
Bill Turley
Café
Luckily, She was there to take his order. Or he wouldn’t have gotten any coffee. Luckily, There was that
Eli Wright
Job Machine
as wages stagnate up store square feet sore from eight days a weak excuse for profit margins measure of time out
Melody Charles
Cardiology
One. Heart melts into ink. Burns in the Arctic eternal night. Melts snow to drips. One. Drip drips down
Nicklaus Faith
Karma, Oklahoma
As I puzzled over the position of Karma, a bony waitress at a roadside café swept up all my change and explained how
Caleb Puckett
Prophecies: Right Here, Right Now
Today it’s a guy hawking prophecies on the 4 train. Strides into the car at the Brooklyn Bridge stop, white
John Brehm
special you’s
you’re too much waist in time. you’ve been renting a room in the wrong house and your bill was late. you’re
Mia Wright
That’s Not Funny; You Clowns Don’t Make Me Laugh
The woman in the grocery store on Sunset stopped me in the produce, her claws about my shoulders, to bless me on
Lynn Melnick
Vigil
The light from our candles makes coronas in the mist as a breeze threatens to blow them out. He bought them at the
Matt Hollrah
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