When I was nine my mother stepped off a plane from Chicago. She had just returned from burying on of her siblings and jet lagged she collapsed in the car. At first I thought she was grieving. That life for her had been this burden she would have to carry. But then it shifted when […]
(for Toi) you don’t. let hurt and air sting the nostrils, allow bitter breath to trouble taste, and when you have closed off from the rest of the world because […]
Lauri Conner, a Cave Canem fellow and literature and creative writing teacher at Seattle Academy, talks about her poem How do you stop the hurt of needing to breathe?
Lauri Conner, a Cave Canem fellow and literature and creative writing teacher at Seattle Academy, talks about the first poem she ever wrote.
Lauri Conner, a Cave Canem fellow and literature and creative writing teacher at Seattle Academy, talks about her current poetry project.
1. Inside the rough cloth of our skin, we row toward the oar wet with deer blood and onward to the edge that must be crossed with crosses hammered into it. 2. Knives in here — he said. You will count two in the silences between the gaps of […]
They announced you captive. They nouned you on the television screen. They strung cut ears around their necks and winked from the parade when their horses stood on hind legs absorbing the morning light with blood on their hooves. They picked scabs of dark from cigarette-lit streets siphoned gasoline from walls […]
I haven’t _________, since smoke dried to salt in the lakebed, since crude oil dripped from his parting slogan the milk’s sky behind it, birds chirping from its wig. Strange, how they burrowed into the side of this rock. Strange . . . to think, they “belonged” and stepped through […]