Alexis Pauline Gumbs is a queer Caribbean poet, independent scholar, and activist. She is the author of Undrowned: Black Feminist Lessons from Marine Mammals (AK Press, 2020); coeditor of ...

“I have always been fascinated with the accuracy and inaccuracy of memory, and how we create stories from the fog of memory, haltingly, sometimes inartfully, and always overlaid by the desire to be ...

Let’s say something about distances that escape through the body. About what the body needs to say as its joints go silent. Let’s say the body needs to remain quiet to say something about distances.

let me hold your hand when I say this [the words are just words] is a new play by Nile Harris meditating on the ordinary poetics of desire and faith. The play is a text to be read simultaneously by ...

Since 2018, the Academy of American Poets has invited twelve new Guest Editors to each curate a month of Poem-a-Day, the original and only daily poetry series sharing previously unpublished poems by ...

In 2024, the Academy of American Poets invited twelve poets to each curate a month of poems. In this short Q&A, Sawako Nakayasu discusses her curatorial approach and her own creative work. Sawako ...

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Edgar L. Peguero y Heredia was born in Salem, Massachusetts, in 1969 to immigrant parents from Baní, Dominican Republic. He is an amateur genealogist and historian who offers lectures at local schools ...

Down the close, darkening lanes they sang their way To the siding-shed, And lined the train with faces grimly gay. Their breasts were stuck all white with wreath and spray As men’s are, dead. Dull ...

Jake Ricafrente holds an MFA from The Writing Seminars at Johns Hopkins University and a PhD in English and creative writing from Texas Tech University. He has received fellowships from the AT&T ...

Every time I have started for the Yellow Flower River, I have gone down the Blue-Green Stream, Following the hills, making ten thousand turnings, We go along rapidly, but advance scarcely one hundred ...

And all that remains for me is to follow a violet darkness on soil where myths splinter and crack. Yes, love was time, and it too splintered and cracked like the face of our country. My share of the ...