The girl stood before me, no older than sixteen—a desert rose, more dangerous than beautiful.
The Moment is a year-long series of poems featuring new work from some of our most exciting First Nations and/or other poets of colour, responding to the current cultural moment we find ourselves in today.
The tree line glows with citrine dusk, the way Eucalyptus sap glistens in sunlight or…
I want my real—well, at least not-as-fake—name on the form.
“You know, you didn’t kill your father,” Zain says.
The Moment is a year-long series of poems featuring new work from some of our most exciting First Nations and/or other poets of colour, responding to the current cultural moment we find ourselves in today.
(After Helen Frankenthaler) Tropical nights are hammocks for lovers. Anais Nin I am thinking…
W-I-L-L-I-N-G-L-Y / that hand that led you over / to the bed already crumpled
“Stop that, loser,” she says, “I dunno why you’re so nervous—all these rituals are just smoke and mirrors.”
The Moment is a year-long series of poems featuring new work from some of our most exciting First Nations and/or other poets of colour, responding to the current cultural moment we find ourselves in today.