Let me enter the afterlife lithe not plodding.   Diane Suess, Folk Song I believe in an afterlife. I never plod. Sometimes I crawl. I sometimes cry. Sometimes I climb. Sometimes I dance. Sometimes I sing. I never plod. When I feel myself...

Oh/ friends, my friends—/ bloom how you must, wild/ until we are free. From Cameron Awkward-Rich's "Cento Between the Ending and the End" If I could, I would make a patchwork quilt of life. It would, of course, include poems. It would include ly...

The Soul has Bandaged moments —/ When too appalled to stir —/ She feels some ghastly Fright come up/ And stop to look at her —// Salute her — with long fingers —/ Caress her freezing hair —/ Sip, Goblin, from the very lips/ The Lover — ...

In every instant there's dying and coming back around./ Muhammad said, This world// is a moment, a pouring that refreshes and renews itself so/ rapidly it seems continuous,// as a burning stick taken from the fire looks like a golden/ wire when you s...