Category / Issue #50 August 2015


Readers: Welcome to Plume Issue # 50 –   August: Our fiftieth issue! Astonishing in every way, this little whim now so…corporeal. To celebrate, we’ll be running some very fine poets especially recruited for this issue – and the next,


The sky becomes sickly, unripe mango rind dappled with flecks of green. Air opens and closes like trachea. This was the sky I dreamt in Ramallah, a false awakening in the hotel room. I pulled at curtains against the whistling


It abides in secret on my pencil tip— Greenland graphite, fossil bodies, the spans of lost beginnings hoarded from the deeps into softest stone across geologic time to bring its word here for the wind to edit, dawn quickened in

A BAT IN THE HOUSE by Marianne…

swoops high, webbed little arms for not quite a figure-8, prefers a big room, out open windows into dark’s usual happiness, insects for supper, where roost– So much light in here, sealed shut awful, the bat’s radar screwed up by


The most beautiful Russian girl in the world lives in Germany tucked in a safe with a Cyrillic cipher. The Germans still bang their heads against a wall over it. Even so, her hands weave a bridge to me, her


An Excerpt:   Plow blade excavated from a tomb Roof of camphor and cypress Longbow of lacquered catalpa wood The error considered a source of lively regret A folded length of willow-green silk The moon hidden perhaps Four rough ink

CONCRETE by Arthur Vogelsang

Entry was easy In a building that was made from all buildings, Put together by my crane. What about all the other people who knew Other bldgs.? Did they enter your huge compound easily? No, much more easily, they entered


You do this to break people’s hearts, don’t you? I didn’t start this to break anyone’s heart. Last night, miles off shore, the boats could not be seen, only their lights like small stars low in the sky, punctuating the


This damn job’s given me a goiter – like those cats in Lombardy (or whatever place they’re in) who drink their city’s fetid water. My belly’s nearly smack against my chin. My beard’s aimed straight at heaven; my nape’s folded

PASTORAL by Sarah Estes

The circle lies unbroken, and the lord is by and by. So many things here are by and by. Weighted excuse for anything; farms like rising heaps of dough, scent of manure thick as lust,                         cut by skunk, blackness, the

POSTSCRIPT by Teresa Cader

You’re wasting time. Your lilac needs pruning. By the shed, split birch rots, the compost is amuck in rainwater.   Remember your lemon summers, a table set by a stone wall, peaches in a basket with white napkins. Tart apples

SHE-POETS CENTO by Kate Daniel…

She-Poets Cento   Manifesto: “Femininity” is a sickness.  I open my eyes. How odd the Girl’s life looks In the envelope of Almost-Infinity. The living soul has dribbled away. Is it any wonder I walk over these bodies All laid like

TWO POEMS by John Skoyles

SPITE FENCE My neighbor forced his abutter to raze the warped and rotten fence because he didn’t want to see the sagging wood when he sat on the porch in the morning having coffee with his wife. The fence was

TWO POEMS by William Trowbridg…

YA KNOW?   It’s been one of those days when the pot calls the kettle Duane. when the knuckles of contumely rap the forehead of resolve, and the weeds of crime strangle the begonias of ebullience, when the morning pills


This month’s Featured Selection marks a return to our usual format of selected poems, this time a (too) brief anthology of Native American poets, gathered by and with an introduction from Allison Adelle Hedge Coke.  Following that are a listing