It's world poetry day so here are some (more) of my favorite poems:
What You Missed That Day You Were Absent from Fourth Grade by Brad Aaron Modlin
All Trains Are Going Local by Timothy Liu
Rural Boys Watch the Apocalypse by Keaton St. James (@boykeats)
HOPE YOU’RE WELL. PLEASE DON’T READ THIS. by Lev St. Valentine (@dogrotpdf)
Time of Love by Claribel Alegría
Every Job Has a First Day by Rebecca Gayle Howell
ALL THAT WANTING, RIGHT? by Devin Kelly
Reading by A.R. Ammons
things i want to ask you by Helga Floros
Night Bird by Danusha Laméris
Prayer for Werewolves by Stephanie Burt
The Two Times I Loved You the Most In a Car by Dorothea Grossman
The Yearner by Rachel Long
If I Had Three Lives by Sarah Russell
I Dream on a Crowded Subway Train with My Eyes Open But My Body Swaying by Chen Chen
We Have Not Long to Love by Tennessee Williams
Jesus at the Gay Bar by Jay Hulme
Cracks by Dieu Dinh
and here's part one <3
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SARAH RUSSELL
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In April
I wake to birds calling to spring
and rain, slow and steady,
nudging the tulips. In the gray
of my morning walk, the forsythia
are moments of sunshine
against the monotone of clouds —
blossoms tumbling down the hillside
like children laughing.
by Sarah Russell
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If I Had Three Lives
After 'Melbourne' by the Whitlams
If I had three lives, I'd marry you in two.
And the other? That life over there
at Starbucks, sitting alone, writing — a memoir,
maybe a novel or this poem. No kids, probably,
a small apartment with a view of the river,
and books — lots of books — and time to read.
Friends to laugh with; a man sometimes,
for a weekend, to remember what skin feels like
when it's alive. I'm thinner in that life, vegan,
practice yoga. I go to art films, farmers markets,
drink martinis in swingy skirts and big jewelry.
I vacation on the Maine coast and wear a flannel shirt
weekend guy left behind, loving the smell of sweat
and aftershave more than I do him. I walk the beach
at sunrise, find perfect shell spirals and study pockmarks
water makes in sand. And I wonder sometimes
if I'll ever find you.
— Sarah Russell
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If I Had Three Lives
If I had three lives, I’d marry you in two.
The other? Perhaps that life over there
at Starbucks, sitting alone, writing — a memoir,
maybe a novel or this poem. No kids, probably,
a small apartment with a view of the river,
and books — lots of books, and time to read.
Friends to laugh with, and a man sometimes,
for a weekend, to remember what skin feels like
when it’s alive. I’d be thinner in that life, vegan,
practice yoga. I’d go to art films, farmers markets,
drink martinis in swingy skirts and big jewelry.
I’d vacation on the Maine coast and wear a flannel shirt
weekend guy left behind, loving the smell of sweat
and aftershave more than I did him. I’d walk the beach
at sunrise, find perfect shell spirals and study pockmarks
water makes in sand. And I’d wonder sometimes
if I’d ever find you.
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if i had three lives by Sarah Russell
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If I had three lives, I’d marry you in two.
The other? Perhaps that life over there
at Starbucks, sitting alone, writing — a memoir,
maybe a novel or this poem. No kids, probably,
a small apartment with a view of the river,
and books — lots of books, and time to read.
Friends to laugh with, and a man sometimes,
for a weekend, to remember what skin feels like
when it’s alive. I’d be thinner in that life, vegan,
practice yoga.
I’d go to art films, farmers markets,
drink martinis in swingy skirts and big jewelry.
I’d vacation on the Maine coast and wear a
flannel shirt weekend guy left behind, loving
the smell of sweat and aftershave more than I
did him. I’d walk the beach at sunrise, find
perfect shell spirals and study pockmarks
water makes in sand. And I’d wonder
sometimes
if I’d ever find you.
If I Had Three Lives
After “Melbourne” by the Whitlams
by Sarah Russell
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If I Had Three Lives
After 'Melbourne' by the Whitlams
If I had three lives, I'd marry you in two.
And the other? That life over there
at Starbucks, sitting alone, writing — a memoir,
maybe a novel or this poem. No kids, probably,
a small apartment with a view of the river,
and books — lots of books — and time to read.
Friends to laugh with; a man sometimes,
for a weekend, to remember what skin feels like
when it's alive. I'm thinner in that life, vegan,
practice yoga. I go to art films, farmers markets,
drink martinis in swingy skirts and big jewelry.
I vacation on the Maine coast and wear a flannel shirt
weekend guy left behind, loving the smell of sweat
and aftershave more than I do him. I walk the beach
at sunrise, find perfect shell spirals and study pockmarks
water makes in sand. And I wonder sometimes
if I'll ever find you.
- Sarah Russell
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Sarah Russell - If I Had Three Lives
After "Melbourne" by the Whitlams
If I had three lives, I'd marry you in two.
And the other? That life over there
at Starbucks, sitting alone, writing—a memoir,
maybe a novel or this poem. No kids, probably,
a small apartment with a view of the river,
and books—lots of books—and time to read.
Friends to laugh with; a man sometimes,
for a weekend, to remember what skin feels like
when it's alive. I'm thinner in that life, vegan,
practice yoga. I go to art films, farmers markets,
drink martinis in swingy skirts and big jewelry.
I vacation on the Maine coast and wear a flannel shirt
weekend guy left behind, loving the smell of sweat
and aftershave more than I do him. I walk the beach
at sunrise, find perfect shell spirals and study pockmarks
water makes in sand. And I wonder sometimes
if I'll ever find you.
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— Sarah Russell, If I Had Three Lives
[Text ID:
"If I had three lives, I'd marry you in two. The other? Perhaps that life over there at Starbucks, sitting alone, writing — a memoir, maybe a novel or this poem. No kids, probably, a small apartment with a view of the river, and books — lots of books, and time to read. Friends to laugh with, and a man sometimes, for a weekend, to remember what skin feels like when it's alive. I'd be thinner in that life, vegan, practice yoga. I'd go to art films, farmer markets, drink martinis in swingy skirts and big jewelry. I'd vacation on the Maine coast and wear a flannel shirt weekend guy left behind, loving the smell of sweat and aftershave more than I did him. I'd walk the beach at sunrise, find perfect shell spirals and study pockmarks water makes in sand. And I'd wonder sometimes if I'd ever find you."
End text ID]
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If I Had Three Lives
After "Melbourne" by the Whitlams
If had three lives, I'd marry you in two.
The other? Perhaps that life over there at Starbucks, sitting alone, writing a memoir, maybe a novel or this poem. No kids probably, a small apartment with a view of the river, and books--lots of books and time to read.
Friends to laugh with, and a man sometimes, for a weekend, to remember what skin feels like when it's alive. I'd be thinner in that life, vegan, practice yoga. I'd go to art films, farmers markets, drink martinis in swingy skirts and big jewelry.
I'd vacation on the Maine coast and wear a flannel shirt weekend guy left behind, loving the smell of sweat and aftershave more than I did him. I'd walk the beach at sunrise, find perfect shell spirals and study pockmarks water makes in sand. And I'd wonder sometimes if I'd ever find you.
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A poem by Sarah Russell
If I Had Three Lives
After “Melbourne” by the Whitlams
If I had three lives, I’d marry you in two.
The other? Perhaps that life over there
at Starbucks, sitting alone, writing – a memoir,
maybe a novel or this poem. No kids, probably,
a small apartment with a view of the river,
and books – lots of books, and time to read.
Friends to laugh with, and a man sometimes,
for a weekend, to remember what skin feels like
when it’s alive. I’d be thinner in that life, vegan,
practice yoga. I’d go to art films, farmers markets,
drink martinis in swingy skirts and big jewelry.
I’d vacation on the Maine coast and wear a flannel shirt
weekend guy left behind, loving the smell of sweat
and aftershave more than I did him. I’d walk the beach
at sunrise, find perfect shell spirals and study pockmarks
water makes in sand. And I’d wonder sometimes
if I’d ever find you.
Sarah Russell
More poems by Sarah Russell are available on her website.
Listen to Sarah Russell read her poem (at 19:57).
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