Portrait of a Small Town Where the Flower Shop has Committed Suicide
By Eli Karren
“Our neighborhood drowns // in the violet hue of summer stolen, while evening arrives / like blueberries to concrete,”
By Eli Karren
“Our neighborhood drowns // in the violet hue of summer stolen, while evening arrives / like blueberries to concrete,”
“who am I to bring the world / into our bed? If the nest comes under attack, let me / lose a feather or two in defense of what I know is true:”
Please join us in congratulating these remarkable poets. Winners were selected by Palette editors.
“and only men can brush their hands across the / cages by the altar as the schoolchildren’s feet are clanking on the marble ceiling”
Every middle of the month: new deadlines, new contests, and new opportunities for your work to find its audience. Here is a roundup of ten submission opportunities with deadlines in the next two months.
“Satisfied bodies bloom green. / I othered art, / marketing my past.”
“the baby could have a family name, but spoken aloud, / he would be entirely American. John Paul, precious John Paul.”
“That Door – Don’t Shut. / Just Cause – Your Birds Flew. / This Still – Our Home.”
By Vedran Husić
“grasping claws of tensile yellow / below skeleton blues whose delicate / tracery wafts into thin witnessed air—”