Yonder
Bob Hicok
The holes in a thing, independent
from the thing itself, are alike
in that an absence is bordered
by a presence, else it's not a hole
but a dent or bump or some other
topographical species, which is how
a sick heart can be related
to a healthy window screen,
a shot man to a well, and all mouths
and all hungers are cousins
to each other and the scream,
those holes we tear in the air
to get to the other side
of whatever this is, please
let it be enough for me,
the you and the trees of it, the man
playing his trumpet at sunset
across the valley for everyone
who has died in the plague,
and the horses that ignore him,
and the moon lifting its hole
of light above the horizon
before the dark arrives
with its meticulous embrace.
from the journal CONDUIT 
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"Without Poetry or Queerness, I Do Not Exist"

"Growing up a woman, without queerness or poetry, I lament how easy it may have been for me to fall into patterns wrought by others. Being a poet drew me to seeing the world in the vigilant, yearning way of poets: I will come to a dead stop on a sidewalk to stare at a snail make her slow journey from one end of the grass to the other, or I will watch the way a stranger’s hand lightly grazes the elbow of someone they are with and may love, and I can’t not write page after page about it."

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cover for The Compass Bird by Siddhartha Menon
What Sparks Poetry:
Siddhartha Menon on Drafts


"'Captivity' is true to the surface facts that it describes. Through the encounter with an unheeding bird, it is about the dichotomy between a full experiencing of something and the urge to record it by means of a camera—or, for that matter, to pin it down in real time through words, through labels. Does the capturing of experience come in the way of experience? Does the holding of something in posterity, or the attempt to do so, interfere with experiencing it in the quick? These are not rhetorical questions."
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