Dailies 10/26/17: rivers, skunk cabbages, & “A fresh literary form: akin to epigram, haiku, epitaph, and one-liner, but not exactly the same.”(qt by XJ Kennedy)



Native Memory – Ansel Elkins 

River was my first word
after mama.
I grew up with the names of rivers
on my tongue: the Coosa,
the Tallapoosa, the Black Warrior;
the sound of their names
as native to me as my own.

Read rest of poem 


Portrait of the Self as Skunk Cabbage – James Davis May

Maybe it’s like those hard
red rubbery spathes
that in early spring—
make that late winter—
create their own heat
and halo themselves

Read rest of poem 


Instant Messages – lowellgm

no more
sly cupped hand

Read rest of poem, plus four others by lowellgm. See more about the form here.

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