The Bard’s most famous sonnet very nearly wasn’t a Shakespearean sonnet. Rejected pairings of content and form, from rondelet to an acrostic hiding his name.
J. Y. Strain lives and works in Bloomington, Ill. This poem is dedicated “for my brother, regarding his ride.” I’d Like to See You at Thanksgiving ...
“Year of the Grim Light” I was using fewer and fewer words, and then I was using none. Not even a running gag with the dog, or...
There is a big difference between looking for something and simply looking, though travel can suit both pursuits.
A new poem about lies and truth, and the fact that George Washington’s transplanted teeth were not made of wood, but probably came from his slaves.
A poem for when missing someone makes the soles of your feet hurt.
A new poem about the things families say and do during the holidays—when some words mean nothing, and some wreck meals.
A new poem, part confession, part song, about immersion and seafood soup.
A reminder of why banks are terrible places to practice your stand-up comedy routine.
Aril: “an extra seed-covering, typically colored and hairy or fleshy, e.g., the red fleshy cup around a yew seed.”
A new poem in which Descartes is proven wrong, and T. Rex’s Marc Bolan appears in a dream and starts thieving.
A new poem about jockeys, ponies, and golden eggs filled with candy, and how quickly races are won when you’re drinking.