Center of the Universe
Something goes on here, the echo magic. We step over the spot and echoes bounce from our voices. The warehouse,
Ann Zoller
Filter / Sort
Something goes on here, the echo magic. We step over the spot and echoes bounce from our voices. The warehouse,
Ann Zoller
What is on the train rolling through my city so important the conductor sounds the whistle every other second from
Chad Reynolds
One. Heart melts into ink. Burns in the Arctic eternal night. Melts snow to drips. One. Drip drips down
Nicklaus Faith
Down at the music floor where they sell beer with plastic collars and gauges hide under mullets next to
Casie Trotter
Luckily, She was there to take his order. Or he wouldn’t have gotten any coffee. Luckily, There was that
Eli Wright
Guide the scalpel with milk-wrinkled hands fine-honed point tracing delicate veins. Gently peel back transparent
John Wooley
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
Pro-Black doesn’t mean anti-anything. El Hajj Malik El-Shabazz (Malcolm X) there are at least
Quraysh Ali Lansana
The explosions are always real. Small wheels turn tighter. These stark prairie towns keep the eyes and bones close
Laura Brandenburg
----I was born in Tulsa, Oklahoma in 1942. ----No, I wasn’t. I was born in Salem, Arkansas in 1942. I always say I
Joe Brainard
we’ve come all the way from Oklahoma for locals
Victoria McArtor
It’s one of those buildings that everyone has seen and many have noted, but hardly anyone can locate. Even those
T. Allen Culpepper
Spring The wallows are full. Egrets range on bison backs --- colors rise
Erin Glanville Brown
The apricot my grandmother planted the day that I was born. She made me fried pies in her
Britton Gildersleeve
*** At the market they never have what I need: sofke corn, dried pea hulls, canuche balls wrapped in
Stacy Pratt
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
Hear it first. Subscribe to This Land Radio in iTunes. Poetry is transforming this space. friendly
Abby Wendle