Today’s choice

Previous poems

Richard Stimac

 

 

 

Leadbelt

Trends of lead, silver, copper, and zinc
vein the middle of Missouri. Precious
or base, the DNR holds dominion.

For centuries, Missouri lead fed the muzzles
of European wars, then American,
then world. Across the river, in Alton,

where a mob hung the abolitionist Lovejoy,
Winchester Ammunition carries
this earthly past into a too-human future.

Empire gave way to republic, like a plot of land
called by a different name because of forms
filed with the recorder of deeds.

In time, new mines bored into the rock.
Others closed and flooded with weep
from the smooth-hewn longwalls.

Today, one mine, so aptly named Bonne Terre,
is the world’s largest underground lake.
Scuba divers flutter like chthonic nymphs

through rooms filled with the rusted bodies
of machines, like rotted carcasses
of Leviathans, reminders even gods die.

 

Richard Stimac has published a poetry book Bricolage (Spartan Press), two poetry chapbooks, and one flash fiction chapbook. In his work, Richard explores time and memory through the landscape and humanscape of the St. Louis region.

Hongwei Bao

    Night Market   When the night curtain falls, the crowd start to assemble as if drawn by magnets, as if answering a scared call. Neon lights go up along the narrow pavements, illuminating the concentrating faces of food-sellers. Under boiling noodle...

Darren Deeks

You have been burgled.
While you were out with the dog,
a burglar made best use of that
yawning kitchen keyhole to spook
through tracelessly

David Adger

being unnatural
he fixes his sight past the fields
of bere and oat and the woods
of birch, his goat-eyes watch
two worlds at once

NJ Hynes

It was so quiet she could hear her hair grow,
heartbeat stretch across measures, nails twist
into mobius strips . . .