By Jayne Cortez
i am new york city here is my brain of hot sauce my tobacco teeth my mattress of bedbug tongue legs ...
Explore Poems: Cities & Urban Life
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- By Jayne CortezWhy do people always choose saturdays to wig outI mean the ones who scream leave me alone i hate your...
- By Andrew FrisardiThe city lies back in its winding-sheetWhile little digits drum a steady beatOn roofs and terraces, ...
- By Li-Young LeeAnd when, in the city in which I love you,even my most excellent song goes unanswered,and I mount the...
- By Karyna McGlynn& Memphis is out in Full Fang!Skeletons skip down our pitted streets.Whole families with matching hobo...
- By Toi DerricotteWhen relatives came from out of town,we would drive down to Blackbottom,drive slowly down the congested...
- By Jan Wagnerdort, wo die stadt versickert, beim bahndamm, jenseits der in ihrer pracht erstarrten, riesigen zikade...
- By Jan Wagnerwhere the city starts to come undone, at the railroad embankment, beyond the staunch colossal cicada...
- By Walela NehandaCrip (noun): slang for a disabled person/the whole of the disabled community/ a school of thought Example...
- By Sally Wen MaoIn Santa Monica, the sunrise has this way of emptying everything inside you. I visit my future deathbed...
- By Salima RiveraLate night sounds and smells entice and we prowl like cats thru Pilsen sidewalks and alleys. The dank...
- By Maurya SimonDelirium in the downtown mall today: Burt Reynolds! All the henna-haired girls sneer, while their mothers...
- By Amy M. AlvarezNaturally, broken glass, throbbing bass, a roll of bills and a paper bag passed between the hands of...
- By Reginald Dwayne Betts[An Outline for a Film] A woman leans against a man who leans against a brick wall watching cars stop...
- By Tracy K. Smith200 cows more than 600 hilly acres property would have been even larger had J not sold 66 acres to DuPont...
- By Frank Marshall DavisChicago is an overgrown woman wearing her skyscrapers like a necklace ... Chicago’s blood is kaleidoscopic...
- By T. S. EliotI. The Burial of the Dead April is the cruellest monthApril is the cruellest month The Waste Land begins with...
- By CAConradOver seven billion human beings live on Earth now. We have displaced or made extinct so many other species...
- By T. S. EliotTwelve o'clock. Along the reaches of the street Held in a lunar synthesis, Whispering lunar incantations...
- By T. S. EliotI The winter evening settles down With smell of steaks in passageways. Six o’clock. The burnt-out ends...