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— Sylvia Plath, quoting an acquaintance in ‘The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath’

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Carrie Fountain, from "Late Spring in the Mesilla Valley", Burn Lake

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Velimir Khlebnikov, from The Collected Works of Velimir Khlebnikov; “Lyrics,”

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yes & no by natalie wee

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Jon Ware, I Am In Eskew

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“the poem begins not where the knife enters but where the blade twists.”

— Hanif Abdurraqib, from his poem ‘The Prestige’, published at Poets.Org

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Barnard Bulletin, New York, November 22, 1938

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Mary Oliver, "October." Devotions

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“If you have a warm soul, you will always be a home for love.”

— Juansen Dizon

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from I, Etcetera by Susan Sontag.

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The night gardener once asked me if I knew how citrus trees died: when they reach old age, if they are not cut down and they manage to survive drought, disease and innumerable attacks of pests, fungi and plagues, they succumb from overabundance. When they come to the end of their life cycle, they put out a final, massive crop of lemons. In their last spring their flowers bud and blossom in enormous bunches and fill the air with a smell so sweet that it stings your nostrils from two blocks away; then their fruits ripen all at once, whole limbs break off due to their excessive weight, and after a few weeks the ground is covered with rotting lemons. It is a strange sight, he said, to see such exuberance before death.

When We Cease to Understand the World, Benjamín Labatut

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Valzhyna Mort, from Music for the Dead and Resurrected: Poems; “Genesis”

Text ID: I’ve always preferred Cain. / His angry / loneliness, his / lack of mother’s / love, his Christian / sarcasm: “Am I / my brother’s keeper?” / asks his brother’s murderer. / Aren’t we indeed / the keepers of our dead?

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Salma Deera, Letters from Medea

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John Berryman, “Surviving Love” 

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Birthright, George Abraham

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Rainer Maria Rilke, Letters of Rainer Maria Rilke, 1892-1910