[Image Description: A frozen lake, it’s icy surface broken in variously sized shards, with dark blue water flooding in between.]
Let Zoë Bracken’s quiet lyricism draw you into an intimate world of longing and revel in the natural images she paints with words.
Read More[Image description: blurry photograph of a wooden staircase. The entire image is toned red.]
It was only about the connection, he says. A reflection
an echo, a mannequin
I derive no pleasure
From causing pain,
But I must live.
You wake the wolf in me
if I let her take over
well, there’d be only shreds
Sometimes I want to cry when I think
About how content you’ve become with
Mediocrity.
Argot is celebrating Hispanic Heritage Month through artwork. Explore the colors and dreams of heritage. Thursday’s art is paired with a poem from Argot team member, Claudia Rojas.
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[Image Description: A orange, stone canyon peak and surrounding edge wraps around a section of blue sky.]
Tarik Dobbs' poetry questions what love and family mean in an unknown landscape. With lush, tender, vivid language, Dobbs probes the boundaries of community and exile in these three poems.
[Image Description: A close up of a pile of multi-colored tablets and capsules, ranging from bright pink, yellow and green, to sky blue.]
My pills & herbs & self-medications fill a mass grave.
Tinctures held under my tongue. A burning prayer.
Read MoreThe mulch is cold, and the sun has disappeared.
The air begins to sharpen with each quick inhale,
cutting up my lungs until
I can’t breathe.
[Image description: close photograph of the vapour rising in swirls from a cup of hot liquid.]
how do you smell like home?
does your pulse quicken?
can’t I touch?
Read Moremen
will
clock me
at the store
and get so angry
as if i'm doing this for them
Then they spider out, skitter and
caress, fingers relaxing,
cupping the cheek like an explosion holds the ground,
Read MoreHere at the crease between my thighs is the foam of a tsunami
Read MoreLike you, all lonely,
Poets not all among them,
Not all, eloquent, not all seeking
Loneliness, what then?
Read Moreart is as useless as it is magnificent,
ugly and real and hurting like a white flame
- two faces of the same god
one that talks in riddles and lives blindfolded.
Read More“I am trying to stay present, trying not to run head first into the darkness she invited.”
Read MoreSpilled words from her lips/ like red wine on white carpets. / She left many stains.
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