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Poems
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Plume Issue #170 October 2025
Alexis Rhone Fancher, “Joshua Tree On The Way To Dorothy’s House, Mojave Desert, 2025”
Elegy
The floor is littered with clothes I once wore
Emily Fragos
Briccetti, Clara Burghelea, Stephen Bluestone, et. al.
“To Stabilize, It’s Buttercups” began quite literally as a walk in the park near my New York City apartment building.
Plume
The Poets and Translators Speak
What if the Invader is Beautiful: Mystic in the Mojave, Louise Mathias in Conversation with Nancy Mitchell
I don’t think I’ve read a book of poems in the past year as intriguing as your stunning new WHAT IF THE INVADER IS BEAUTIFUL.
Nancy Mitchell
Featured Selection
Mackenzie Kozak “No swaddle” Reviewed by Celeste Lipkes
An identity defined by lack is only interesting if everyone presumes its opposite is essential.
Celeste Lipkes
Book Review
“Dispatches from Terra Incognita 4 & 5” by Peter Johnson
Once upon a time . . . Jonas lived with a woman in Newport during an era known for a surplus of mock-heroic moments.
Peter Johnson
Essays and Comment
“The Walnut and Honey Cookies” translated from Romanian by Clara Burghelea
I am a Kurdish refugee who, for over a decade,
Ștefan Manasia
Three Poems
You suckered me, Legs—
Dzvinia Orlowsky
Two Poems translated by Ryan Bruno
This is the moles' heaven.
Bruno Montané Krebs
Two Poems
I thought I bought more soap
Charles O. Hartman
I Spent one Summer with a Semi-colon
in those days people called it shacking up
Angela Ball
Molly Twomey’s “Chic To Be Sad” reviewed by Heather Treseler
For me, as a child of the ‘80s and teen of the ‘90s, it often felt as though occupying a female body was the equivalent of wearing a grenade.
Heather Treseler
Book Review
World on a String, 2012
Thunder, and my cats, pure products of America,
Gail Mazur
I prefer synthetic grass
no roots no worm
Jane Medved
Two Golden Shovels Tada Chimako and Issa
What more about summer
Kimiko Hahn
Two poems translated from Spanish by Charlotte Stretch
Pasamos delante de las ruinas
Samuel Espinosa Mómox
Open Book: 100 Secrets
1. I was self-conscious that I looked like crap in the hospital as I sucked on ice chips sans lipstick.
Denise Duhamel and Julie Marie Wade
Three Poems
A neighbor called me about the neighbors in the blue house between us.
David Baker
To Stabilize, It’s Buttercups
& the plucky boy, who
Lee Briccetti
The Trolley
It was stuck and what with rationing and brownouts
Stephen Bluestone