#dreginald

[bostonpoetryslam]

If being born near the edge of a cursed river has taught me anything it's that survival is a concrete noun: home, house, eloquence. I am constantly being chased by a pack of wolves named trauma and yet I exist in this forest with a trembling fist & a frantic urge to make me beautiful.

Mark Cugini, “Bouquet for a Past/Present/Future Pull Set To Fire,” published in Dreginald

[lifeinpoetry]

This cold could be that cold, this night could be that night. I have nothing left

to spare anymore—                                 keep moving until the dark moves before me.

— Emily Barton Altman, from “Score for Approaching Winter,” published in DREGINALD

[cowboyhats]

Ruth Baumann, Headless Ghazal // Mitski, Drunk Walk Home

[telepathyamongmoths]

have five poems in the latest issue of DREGINALD

feelin’ cool

[lifeinpoetry]

We learn bodily ire from our mothers—how to run / out of our own flesh—

Grace Shuyi Liew, from “WHAT DOES IT MEAN TO BE DURATIONAL, NOT ETERNAL?” published in DREGINALD

[lifeinpoetry]

we look & we look & we look  & i think of you inside me & know i’ll burn it all down

​— Megan Burns, from “Role Play,” published in DREGINALD

[lifeinpoetry]

tenderness: we resist asking how one fantasizes coping when trauma sleeps with the breeze and the clocks i am moved toward sunlight calling you, expecting nothing

​— Catherine Chen, from “How it Feels,” published in DREGINALD

[bostonpoetryslam]

I was singing I was naked It was Saturday Money yes Soul no To have taken To have been took You be the tree and I'll be the girl who loves you forever

Valerie Hsiung, from “YOU & ME FOREVER (the b-sides),” published in Dreginald