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
SELF PORTRAIT IN THE BACKYARD AS MOTHER
Tulip-bellied, fists full of weeds, the baby shuffles over the wet grass,
Nicole Cooley
Labyrinth (Lear)
A poorly timed abdication. A madness
Kathleen Graber
Two Views of Bercy
It seems that the sun has stopped and will move no more
Jacques Réda
I Decided to Weigh My Head
Was it really as heavy as it felt?
John Brehm
It Was A 3.8
My mother said go get me a plum.
Ron Slate
Paean for the Players
The pale actor’s mouth
April Bernard
Honey
Strange music of our Emily —
Cecilia Woloch
Bosnia, Kentucky
Court documents say her name is Azra Bašic. In 1992, twin knives
Ellen Bass
Swan Song
I admit. In the beginning
Alice Friman
PHAROAH
Whenever we were out on the dance floor, I always looked at your face, while you looked downward, inward, at
Paul Lisicky
Tom’s Sublet and Without Longing, What?
Once, a long time ago in Rome, I was bathed
Alice Friman
Ars Poetica Über Prompt (Not the Taxi Service)
Take the worst poem you’ve ever written but that you haven’t
Suzanne Lummis
Previous
1
...
162
163
164
165
166
...
181
Next