ENTER A SUBMISSION TO PLUME

Poems

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  • Untitled | Matinee 

    To dream a world on a hunk of shade,

  • EASTHAM TURNIPS, ROUTE 6, NOVEMBER

    Honor System, the sign tacked to a scrub oak said,

  • Ode to the Paper Clip

    O knot in two dimensions,

  • A Brief Portfolio

    Both before and after our marriage,

  • Personal Life | I, Too, Arrived Here in the End | Godard

    The universe is vast and boundless

  • Winter Morning and Ceci n’est pas un pot

    I can easily imagine someone always doubting before he opened his front door whether

  • Notes on a 39-Year-Old Body

    Most internal organs jiggle and glow and are rosy

  • Dear Lucinda Williams and Dear Jules

    A power in proximity to terror, the lower middle-class sublime of a car’s back seat,

  • Plume

    The old wheelbarrow aimed like a cannon

  • On the Way to the Acupuncturist

    In the wrong lane, the slow one—

  • Trash

    Good you are trashing, my husband says, when I send him a photo

  • I’ll Hang Around as Long as You Will Let Me

    John Prine is dead on TV in the season before trees bear peaches