Poems
Contributors
Authors
Translators
Archive
Plume Issues
The Poets and Translators Speak
Featured Selection
Book Reviews
Essays and Comment
Interviews
Newsletters
Station To Station
Anthologies
About
History and Mission
Staff
Submissions
Menu
ENTER A SUBMISSION TO PLUME
Poems
Contributors
Authors
Translators
Archive
Plume Issues
The Poets and Translators Speak
Featured Selection
Book Reviews
Essays and Comment
Interviews
Newsletters
Station To Station
Anthologies
About
History and Mission
Staff
Submissions
Search
Poems
Sort By:
Date
Title
First Line
Random
Index
Train to Naples and “It’s Awful Plain”
Five ceramic half-ducks flew up the wall.
Kate Northrop
My Heart in Evening
In the evening one hears the sharp shrieks of bats.
Georg Trakl
From The Little Book of Passage
Ecco il fiume che mi allarga lo sguardo, che mi attraversa la fronte.
Franca Mancinelli
The Drowned and the Saved
If all of us were to try to kill ourselves at least once, then all of us would know nothing more than that: which is why
Tom Sleigh
Throughway and Passage
Faces, facing one another on the bus.
Matthias Göritz
Tom’s Sublet and Without Longing, What?
Once, a long time ago in Rome, I was bathed
Alice Friman
Archaeologists
Archaeologists found
Hoyt Rogers
A Progressive Disease
I feel my body getting away from me,
Floyd Skloot
The Book of Forgotten Geniuses
I can understand why the Egyptians
Stewart Moss
After Callimachus
Goddess of parturition, listen when Cleo
Stephanie Burt
The Madonna Poems
She bends to lift him from the basket.
Frances Richey
La Bagatelle | Method | Dream Glance
in cursive yellow hung above
Christina Pugh
Previous
1
...
135
136
137
138
139
...
170
Next