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Submission Guidelines: Send 1-3 unpublished poems in the body of an email (NO ATTACHMENTS) to nvneditor[at]gmail.com. No simultaneous submissions. Use "Verse News Submission" as the subject line. Send a brief bio. No payment. Authors retain all rights after 1st-time appearance here. Scroll down the right sidebar for the fine print.
Showing posts with label host. Show all posts
Showing posts with label host. Show all posts

Tuesday, March 14, 2023

THE OSCAR

by Margaret D. Stetz




…for the “Best Adapted
Life”
goes to the women of
my generation
we make up most
of the Academy
and won
though no one else would
vote for us
but learned at last
to write our own names
on the ballot
then turn up with a speech
for the acceptance
that we’ve never felt
of course the host
has withering jokes 
at our expense
but we don’t
slap him
we’ve always swallowed more
at work at home in bed
than pride
when all our names 
are called
we will not miss 
this moment
although our bladders fill like
Thanksgiving Day Parade
balloons
the trailing hems of gowns
catch heels and trip us
on the way to reach
the stage
where music has already 
played us off before
we even speak
the microphones the cameras
shutting down
we shout our thanks
for one another’s 
help and strength
into the emptying auditorium.
Our afterparty invitations
are for a future day
we don’t know when
but meanwhile
stand 
just stand
and keep our grip on something
golden.


Margaret D. Stetz, a lifelong feminist and a poet, is the Mae and Robert Carter Professor of Women's Studies and Professor of Humanities at the University of Delaware.

Thursday, July 29, 2021

ELEGY FOR THE LUNG

by Robert Américo Esnard




The sun streaks a dull rust 
over the Hudson, 
the dusty air shimmers metallic,
and I am overcome 
with awareness of my own blood.
 
I can feel it, not rushing, but crawling,
a slow advance. 
My whole body a fleshy host.
Incredible, 
the small power of a protein 
 
to sustain a whole body: 
to capture, 
to carry, to climb, to clear. 
We, less thankless 
more heedless. I rarely consider:
 
the shape of a fluid forms 
its function.
A tiny shift is enough to poison 
a whole body: 
to capture contagion, to carry 
 
contaminants through the blood. 
A breath of rust 
climbing as the branches burn,
a body overcome,
making a slow advance to dust.


Robert Américo Esnard was born and raised in the Bronx, NY. He studied Linguistics and Cognitive Science at Dartmouth College. His work has been published by or is forthcoming in Alternating Current Press, Alternative Field, Cutbank, Glass, Lunch Ticket, New York Quarterly, and several anthologies. He is a Best of the Net and Pushcart Prize-nominated poet.

Tuesday, October 20, 2020

SUBURBAN WOMEN

 by Laura Winkelspecht




Suburban women wake up early to exercise,
load the dishwasher while brushing their teeth,
and dress their kids on the way out the door.
 
Suburban women drive to office jobs
in late model crossover vehicles
and pick up overpriced coffee on the way.
 
Suburban women schedule family vacations,
manage doctor appointments and oil changes,
and plan pregnancies in between potty training.
 
Suburban women attend soccer games,
take turns at carpooling to school,
and organize fundraisers and family reunions.  
 
Suburban women decorate for each holiday,
nurture their prized sourdough starter,
and sew masks for everyone in their family.
 
Suburban women host socially distant barbeques
with their brown neighbors two doors over
and promise play dates with genuine smiles.
 
Suburban women tolerate condescension
with tight-lipped smiles and long memories. 
They register voters on the weekend.


Laura Winkelspecht is a poet and writer from Wisconsin who writes with the hope of finding lightning among the lightning bugs. She has been published in Anti-Heroin Chic, One Sentence Poems, Rat’s Ass Review, Poets Reading the News, and others. She is a Pushcart Prize nominee.