Photo by Flickr Creative Commons user Luke Gattuso
November 28th, 2014 | 6:00am

Photo by Flickr Creative Commons user Luke Gattuso

This month, we’re pleased to offer seven new poems by several returning and new contributors.


Margot Douaihy

--New York

--The Lost Art of Getting Lost

Photo by Flickr Creative Commons user Joe Shlabotnik
November 26th, 2014 | 6:00am

Photo by Flickr Creative Commons user Joe Shlabotnik

Portland was vibrant, despite its mistiness; always threatening to rain, but never truly downpouring. G. and I walked up and down Fore Street, looking for the restaurant by the same name, trying not to look too much like lost tourists. We had escaped to Portland in search of good food, which was always a comfort to us and which we needed now more than ever. Finishing our undergraduate degrees a few weeks earlier had left us feeling more somber and empty than excited. After days of enduring many heartfelt goodbyes from friends we knew we’d never see again and lengthy advice from proud, overbearing relatives, we were aching to get away from it all; to distract ourselves from the constant reminders that a chapter in our lives was closing forever.

Photo by author
November 24th, 2014 | 6:00am

 

Photo by author

To exist humanly, is to name the world, to change it. ~Paulo Freire

When I was 19 my full-time job was bartending a pub called Filthy McNasty’s. McNasty’s sat on Rose Street in Edinburgh, Scotland, one of the roughest streets in the city center at the time. Fights punctuated each hour of the night and later, after I’d moved on up from McNasty’s, a friend was stabbed near there in a skinhead-like attack. Indoors, customers called me 
Garth” because of my wild, unkempt hair, like Garth in Wayne’s World. I didn’t wear makeup and favored baggy jeans and t-shirts; I guess this made me infuriatingly gender ambiguous.

Photo by Flickr Creative Commons user Howard Smith
November 20th, 2014 | 6:00am

Photo by Flickr Creative Commons user Howard Smith

Your name: Jane Satterfield

Current city: Baltimore, MD

How long have you lived here? Except for years in Iowa and England, I’ve lived in Maryland most of my life. Though I’ve lived in Charm City for 23 years, I’m a bit of a homebody so my imagination runs backward to the places I lived growing up: the sprawling farmland of Frederick county that runs along the Catoctin Mountain chain; the sprawl of suburban tract land along the D.C. Beltway.

Photo by Flickr Creative Commons user Lorne Covant
November 19th, 2014 | 6:00am

Photo by Flickr Creative Commons user Lorne Covant

You are that boy. The boy I met in Switzerland while herding my siblings up the long, steep hill to the closest school cafeteria for our free lunch.

It took me exactly two hours. Two hours for most Swiss children to go home to a hot lunch and a motherly kiss. Two hours for non-Swiss me to make my way across town, pick up my brother and sisters at their school and coax them all up that hill, to get them fed, then back down to drop them off and then catch a city bus to my own school, and my breath, if I have money that day.