Poetry
This is Thin Air Online’s Archive of pieces that are classified as poetry, both long form and short.
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Three Poems by Neiha Lasharie
love love love After “This Sky,” a poem from Hafez’s The Gift Hafez said this Sky where we live is no place to lose your wings he never warned against the highwaymen thieves liars old…
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in re promiscuous owl and black-hearted pussycat by Michael Chang
in re promiscuous owl and black-hearted pussycat you (the bullshit artist) (dam) nice limbs cheekbones for days / ruin my life pls hold i shot my load (can you say that in polite company) papito funhouse mirror to the soul black girls code / don’t write about nature / because one day we won’t have…
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In Praise of Bodies that Are Not Mine by Tom Bennett
In Praise of Bodies that Are Not Mine I envy the person born with a glass torso. Hard body you can see through to the stomach where promise and assurance curdle before they clot the mouth. Wouldn’t that have saved us so much time in the shower taking turns to be crash dummy and crash. Crank…
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Two Poems by Chris Abbott
HPS Who would have noticedthe black birds taking onchildlike possibility? They leapt and bouncedacross and abovethe ground their back flipoverand yonder the assault on the scaling netreimaginedbeyond… measured againstgargantuan noisesfrom deforestation cutting,stripping,shredding… all for the visibilityof aperimeter fence. My life in two four drawer filing cabinets firmly shut Com part and encased ment…
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Three Poems by Frances Koziar
Moonchild She found me, notthe other way around. Whisper-soft as butterfly wings, her feetbare on the loam, her sighthe wind on my cheek. I followed her,seeking–what, I didn’t know–askingfor something to hold ontothrough the burdenof my grief; I followedher as a childfollows a fairy,or an old womana memory, reachedthe shore of the ocean, saltfingers on…
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Three Poems by Romana Iorga
Grief Meridian The skin comes off first. All those years, when kind words weighed more than random anger. Now, we take turns opening doors to ache. Now, we forget to close them. This is the longitude of grief,the latitude of sorrow. … Twilight bleeds on white-washed walls in the kitchen. Its filaments flicker, sputter, sink…
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Two Poems by Kristin LaFollette
Women When I think of you, first you’re honeycomb & milkweed, then a stack of white plates with blue borders— I grew up not afraid of guns because you taught me not to be afraid: Hunting is eating & together we find and take the marrow— As a child, you would take me with youto…
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Two Poems by Olivia J. Kiers
Campfire: Ossipee, NH Below straight-shot pines, the fire pit shadow waits agape. Stone teeth encircle charcoal toothpaste, saying ah—a black that startles. It is almost artificial, Vantablack’s trick of flipping every card an ace of spades— unreal, wide-eyed, large-dot dilated pupil without a catch-light akin to nothing else nocturnal. Let’s burn it with orange and…
