Posts by Mélanie Grondin

The Tundra at last

The Tundra at last
Resound my heart
Your music, the river
Your light, the stars
Your carpet, the lichen’s tender green

By Joséphine Bacon • "The Tundra at last" is taken from the book A Tea in the Tundra / Nipishapui Nete Mushuat, published by BookLand Press • Read our review • Posted Filed in Poem of the Month Leave a comment

Shape

My ex keeps asking do I want the cat back,
but my place is a wall short
and where pray tell to put the litter box?

By Carolyn Marie Souaid • "Shape" is taken from the book This World We Invented, published by Brick Books • Read our review • Posted Filed in Poem of the Month

Yarrow

There’s the country somewhere outside the car.
The country where the elm fucks the maple
and the elm broods as if auditioning
for a new PBS miniseries.

By David McGimpsey • "Yarrow" is taken from the book Asbestos Heights, published by Coach House Books • Read our review • Posted Filed in Poem of the Month

Everything is a circle

everything is a circle completing the pages

of history to repaint it

retranscribe the traditional legends

By Natasha Kanapé Fontaine • "Everything is a circle" is taken from the book Do Not Enter My Soul in Your Shoes, published by Mawenzi House • Read our review • Posted Filed in Poem of the Month

Nursery Rhyme for Big Brother

Palace flags and shoot-to-kill orders,
cardboard tanks and well-lit borders,
dungeons and lice, grenades and books,
photos retouched and high-kicking boots,

By Derek Webster • "Nursery Rhyme for Big Brother" is taken from the book Mockingbird, published by Véhicule Press • Read our review • Posted Filed in Poem of the Month

The Story of Bones

The archaeologist’s daughter grew up in tombs. She spent her early childhood crawling through the volcanic ash, which preserved time. Her father dug tunnels in the ground, uncovered death masks, stumbled upon bones of winged beasts, while her baby hands clutched the cold earth.

By Talya Rubin • "The Story of Bones" is taken from the book Leaving the Island, published by Signal Editions • Read our review • Posted Filed in Poem of the Month

Radii

platonic / platinum.

I could lick the hair of his arms to
smell the sunlight
but let the lilac air
wheel-speak our sympathies.

Regain

Tonight it will rain on the green dunes of limestone.
Wine preserved until now in a dead man’s mouth
will awaken the realm of footbridges, displaced in a bell.

A human tongue will clang courage inside a helmet.

By Oana Avasilichioaei • "Regain" is taken from the book Limbinal, published by Talonbooks • Read our review • Posted Filed in Poem of the Month

K’tunaxa

A conversation of ravens, hurled into
               the wind as it pushes low
across the dry forget-me-not ridges,
               the green flats of the Bow,

By Mark Abley • "K’tunaxa" is taken from the book The Tongues of Earth, published by Coteau Books • Read our review • Posted Filed in Poem of the Month
A Private Mythology, by Stephen Morrissey

Waking at 4 a.m.

There in the darkness
silence dwells, and the long
wait for morning, daylight
around the window shade
in what’s left of night;

By Stephen Morrissey • "Waking at 4 a.m." is taken from the book A Private Mythology, published by Ekstasis Editions • Read our review • Posted Filed in Poem of the Month