For those speaking trees, from The Best American Poetry, 2013, Guest Editor Denise Duhamel, Series Editor, David Lehman.
from Henry’s Song / by Beckian Fritz Goldberg
the trees here taller than any trees in your dreams. You’re afraid
if you stay here they might talk
For artists can be figures of speech too, from Black Aperture.
from Monet as a Verb / by Matt Rasmussen
or the one
after another
that Monet the
city behind
the window.
For seeking life in the middle of everything, from poetryfoundation.org.
from Sanctuary / by Jean Valentine
Yes I know: the thread you have to keep finding, over again, to
follow it back to life; I know. Impossible, sometimes.
For decibels and angels, from Poetry, March 2017.
from Echo / by Raymond Antrobus
And no one knew what I was missing
until a doctor gave me a handful of Legos
and said to put a brick on the table
every time I heard a sound.
After the test I still held enough bricks
in my hand to build a house
and call it my sanctuary
For erasures of Shakespeare’s sonnets, from Nets.
from 97 / by Jen Bervin
the very birds are mute
Or, if they sing
leaves look pale
For fairy tales, from Copper Nickel, Issue 24.
from Bear Skins / by Ryan Sharp
Three brothers have draped pelts
Over their shoulders, pretending
To be bears.
For the rain, which makes an appearance at the end of this poem, from Copper Nickel, Issue 24.
from The News / by John Loughlin
The dead knock at the door.
They arrive with big news.
The future as they imagined it,
The being dead part, hasn’t turned out
As they expected. Both the idealists
And the realists had it wrong.
You will too, they tell you.
For science fiction, too, in all its nonfiction foreshadows, from Modern Life.
from The Future of Terror / 7 / by Matthea Harvey
We spun the glob to forget
our grievances. Greenland: gone.
The Gulf, a blurry gouache.
We went on hayrides and watched
the gulls glide overhead, though
our health insurance no longer covered
hayrides, only icewater, aspirin
and iris inspections, which the individualists
outside the gate said infringed on their inalienable
rights.
For Dorothy and Glenda and the many shades of green, from Fairy Tale Review: The Emerald Issue.
from The Rhetoric of Oz / by Grace Bauer
Language is the wizard
and the curtain that he hides behind,
conjuring names for all our longings
and helping us spell our way home.
For wouldn’t you know it, she would think of manifesting dreams, from The Best of It. I just call it Awwwwww-w-p. Dream a little dream for all the poets & writers!
from How Successful Can She Afford to Be? / by Kay Ryan
Maybe the mime’s test
would be to get you to drink
from the glass she passed.
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