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Submission Guidelines: Send 1-3 unpublished poems in the body of an email (NO ATTACHMENTS) to nvneditor[at]gmail.com.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 scarves. Show all posts
Showing posts with label scarves. Show all posts

Sunday, February 01, 2026

TO THE REPUBLIC

by Athena Kildegaard




It is hard, right now, to think
of America, my country, it no longer
holds together inside its borders. 
Four decades ago, every school day, 
I asked one of the twelve-year-olds
in my charge to lead us in the Pledge
of Allegiance. It was the law, this recital.
As good a way as any, I thought, to begin.
Words, words, slippery as jello cubes,
hardly join, now, to anything real.
My heart beats, my hand firms itself
to my chest—this friction, this viva—
but my tongue dare not lift, my lips
not open, my body not burst
with air, with light. America, where
have you gone?

You are in Minneapolis,
America, handing out scarves and hats,
standing beside your neighbors, lifting
whistles to your lips because your lips
have power, your breath has power,
you are teaching us how to be Americans.


Athena Kildegaard is the author of six books of poetry, most recently Prairie Midden (Tinderbox Editions), winner of the WILLA Literary Award. 

Tuesday, January 31, 2017

DREAMING

by Carol Alexander




The dreams unspool like newsreel in the night.
They patrol great rifts with somnambulist grace,
afraid to wake. Winds snatch up small fires.
Ships jam the locks; albatross float in the wrack.
We learned to sing the places of our origins.
Baggage mounts and scarves restrain long, blue-black hair,
 scarves  so beautifully shot with metallic threads.
The same dream dreamt, newsreel of the stunning night,
shows us  rifles, faces bearded with green foam,
the nausea of stale food in the hold.
Overnight, we learn the taste of shame.
Names pile up on documents; the syllables howl.
We thrust our bodies against the dream,
test its give, mallow stickiness of the web.
In attics children hide, clutching an almond or a fig.
Rooftops blacken in fallout; mushrooms sprout in morgues.
After the war, survivors creep outdoors like ghosts.
And in the breadlines, there is ersatz.
A giant mouth is yawning, stuffed with crooked teeth.


Carol Alexander's work has been published in numerous anthologies and literary journals such as The American Journal of Poetry, Bluestem, Boston Literary Magazine, Canary, Caesura, Chiron Review, The Common, Driftwood Press, MadHatLit, Mobius, TheNewVerse.News, Poetrybay, South Florida Poetry  Journal, Red River Review, Split Rock Review, and THEMA. Her poetry collection Habitat Lost will be published in 2017 by Cave Moon Press. Her chapbook Bridal Veil Falls is available from Flutter Press.