ENTER A SUBMISSION TO PLUME

Poems

Sort By: Date Title First Line Random Index

  • The Epileptic

    Conversations with him are like waiting for thunder.

  • After Our Parents Get Divorced, Our Mother Buys an Ivy Stencil

    In the small white bedroom

  • A Brief Portfolio

    Faces pass by like unheard explanations

  • Plume

    The old wheelbarrow aimed like a cannon

  • This Is the Day the Lord Has Made

    This is the day the Lord has made,

  • Scene from a Photograph in a Dream

    What was I doing in my childhood room again?

  • On Breathing and Not Breathing—The Sequence

    Once, a man stopped breathing

  • November

    Hours ago I was walking with my dog down

  • With My Senses in Ruins | Scavenge and Transform

    Here’s a recipe for seeing: sleep

  • Notes on Desire

    Archytas of Tarentum said the most fatal curse

  • Unrest or What the French Horn Can Teach You

    To master the French Horn, you need lips of steel

  • Wilderness

    The mind is a wilderness like Bartram’s, razed, cemented over, marked by rows