Poets.org: Welcome to the Guest Editor Q&A, hosted by the Academy of American Poets. I’m Mary Sutton, and I’m here today with the Guest Editor for May, No‘u Revilla. No‘u is the author of the 2022 ...

In losing you I lost my sun and moon And all the stars that blessed my lonely night. I lost the hope of Spring, the joy of June, The Autumn’s peace, the Winter’s firelight. I lost the zest of living, ...

Join Brooklyn Poets at 144 Montague or online via Zoom for an evening of poetry in solidarity with and support of Sudan, hosted and curated by Amina Iro, including an open mic and featured readings by ...

In her room at the prow of the house Where light breaks, and the windows are tossed with linden, My daughter is writing a story. I pause in the stairwell, hearing From her shut door a commotion of ...

Should auld acquaintance be forgot, And never brought to mind? Should auld acquaintance be forgot, And auld lang syne! Chorus: For auld lang syne, my dear, For auld lang syne. We’ll tak a cup o’ ...

late spring wind sounds an ocean through new leaves. later the same wind sounds a tide. later still the dry ...

man hooded masquerade a museum erected out of paper-mâché stone, blue cotton candied walls hung thick and long with rooms full of master’s Egos ...

Vita Sackville-West, an English poet, novelist, journalist, diarist, member of the Bloomsbury Group, and muse of Virginia Woolf, was born Victoria Mary Sackville-West in Knole, Kent, England on March ...

Kyle Carrero Lopez is the author of MUSCLE MEMORY ([PANK] Books, 2022), winner of the 2020 [PANK] Books Contest. He co-founded LEGACY, a Brooklyn-based production collective by and for Black queer ...

above a black lake and she lies flat. I now replace intensity with meaning. One is a black hole of boundless appetite, a false womb, another is a sentence. My therapist says children need a “father” ...

It is not very often me. When it is, I start by holding on to hatred. I believe it is freedom. I believe it is the smallest stone of the self. Inside the walls of the dream, I can’t stand, I can’t lie ...

First O songs for a prelude, Lightly strike on the stretch'd tympanum pride and joy in my city, How she led the rest to arms, how she gave the cue, How at once with lithe limbs unwaiting a moment she ...