Weeklies Feb/March: the burying beetle, the problem with Sappho, & what happens when they come for us on the 7 train

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THE BURYING BEETLE – Ada Limón

 

I like to imagine even the plants

want attention, so I weed for four

hours straight, assuring the tomatoes

feel July’s hot breath on the neck,

Read rest of poem 

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WHEN THEY COME FOR US ON THE 7 TRAIN – Ananda Lima

Past the underground tracks, the railroad rises
our eyes adjust to the sun over Jackson Heights
at the platform, the doors slide open and the winter
comes in with the men in their dark uniforms
silence except for the “please
stand clear of the closing doors,” the weight
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THE PROBLEM WITH SAPPHO – Charles Rafferty

Only one complete poem remains. The rest of it is berries left in the bramble after a visit from midday starlings. For years I couldn’t understand how this redaction moved anyone to tears. She was a dampness in the matchbook. But the world is patient.

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