Poetry Archives – ZYZZYVA

The Blue Angels / The Spirituals App

by David Roderick

April 25, 2024

Posted on April 25, 2024 (May 15, 2024) by John McMurtrie

The Blue AngelsHave you heard the sound of themduring Fleet Week the threat of our bruteaerial power flaying whole afternoonsin formation and turgid fumes over the Baymy friend at the Chron says they fly700 mph and 18 inches apartskimming the filigree of a sound barrieruntil they bang through foglike a truncheon hitting a skull I

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The Voices of the Whales

by Isabel Zapata

February 1, 2024

Posted on February 1, 2024 (February 2, 2024) by John McMurtrie

Translated from the Spanish by Robin Myers 1. I’m interested in the language of animals. 2. Whales, especially the humpback whale and the various subspecies of blue whale, are known to make repetitive sounds with different frequencies we consider to be songs. 3. When we look at animals, we hope to find virtues we lack. 4. Although sexual selection is thought to be their primary purpose, whale songs remain a mystery to scientists. 5. The human body is a symphony. (Charles Ives) 6. The universe is a symphony. (John Cage) 7. Nothing suggests that whales are trying to communicate with […]

Coup de Vieux

by David L. Ulin

November 22, 2023

Posted on November 22, 2023 (December 10, 2023) by John McMurtrie

For Tom Mageethrice in three nightsthe dead have come my waytwice it is youtwin cities accentrough and lowlike a globusin your throatI can hear the timbreyet I cannot carryback a word you saythen last night my grandfatheran ancient apparitionif younger than hewould be aliveeighth of a millenniumsince his shtetl birth and allthat’s left is this

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‘Gardeners’ World,’ or What I Did During the Plague

by Cynthia White

August 3, 2023

Posted on August 3, 2023 (August 21, 2023) by John McMurtrie

“Gardeners’ World, or What I Did During the Plague”For that hour, only the earthof his garden. Dark and friableas chocolate cake, throngingwith nematodes and fungi,more microbes in a spoon than humanson the planet. A fear-free hour.An hour without my trip-wired heart.Were you aware the peony,like the potato, is a tuber?I was in love with his

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My California

by Lee Herrick

January 6, 2023

Posted on January 6, 2023 (January 5, 2023) by Zack Ravas

Here, an olive votive keeps the sunset lit, the Korean twenty-somethings talk about hyphens, graduate school, and good pot. A group of four at a window table in Carpinteria discuss the quality of wines in Napa Valley versus Lodi. Here, in my California, the streets remember the Chicano poet whose songs still bank off Fresno’s beer-soaked gutters and almond trees in partial blossom. Here, in my California, we fish out long noodles from the pho with such accuracy you’d think we’d done this before. In Fresno, the bullets tire of themselves and begin to pray five times a day. In […]

My Unsent Letter to You

by W. S. Di Piero

January 2, 2023

Posted on January 2, 2023 (January 1, 2023) by Zack Ravas

I’m writing in December. The almanacs call this a cold full moon. I watch it shadow through its veils. My book says of amor fati: want nothing more than what comes at you; love necessity; relive life’s phases in round time, evermore. Pain, unpain, joy, pain, groceries, car woes, plague. Our master plan of repetitions that can’t be planned for. We’ll never want things back. We’ll rush every instant as the last. I say love. I repeat it. I want to drink the lived, absent episodes of any hour, as we drink each other’s words, on the porch, under trees, […]

My Ancestors Send Me Screenshots

by Tayi Tibble

December 30, 2022

Posted on December 30, 2022 (December 29, 2022) by Zack Ravas

My ancestors send me screenshots of your group chats dissecting me with all the science of your founding fathers and the sympathy of your murdering mothers wanting to know who I am where I’ve been and who I’ve been with. What the fuck is a whakapapa? Do I carry it in my pussy? In a tiny baggy? Like a real 1? Like a down-ass bitch? Do I have a heart? And does it bleed? Like a steak? If it’s brutalised enough? If it’s served? On a plate? With proper silverware? And presented to your queen still beating would she care? […]

Boxing

by John Freeman

January 25, 2022

Posted on January 25, 2022 (January 27, 2022) by Zack Ravas

In the waning daysof those years in LondonI took up boxing. I didn’twant to unload on someunsuspecting soul so Ifound a sparring partner.She turned up, necktatted, face pierced, dred-locked and strong as hell.A Turkish woman withEast London stenciledon her left forearm. Beforeboxing she trained horsesin dressage and beforethat was trying not todrown herself in drink.After

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Worries

by Edward Derby

January 19, 2022

Posted on January 19, 2022 (January 18, 2022) by Zack Ravas

Hungers, germs, personal emailgone to SPAM,lost postcards that explained everything,what to do about the weeds in the gravel,catalytic converter theft,a blood stain in a library book (page 17),sock holes, black holes, global warming,automatic subscription renewals,bankruptcy, asteroids,air quality,a helicopter circling the neighborhood,eviction,sagging underwear elastic,the panel van parkedon the street, not knowing neighbors,drinking toomuch, being spellbound,fate vs.

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Friend

by Dominica Phetteplace

December 24, 2021

Posted on December 24, 2021 (December 23, 2021) by Zack Ravas

She says Namaste even when not in yoga class, whereas I will not say om under any circumstances. She says she doesn’t resent the younger generation, that they are completely of a world that we made, that to hate the young is to hate ourselves. She says that guys on dating apps indicate their marriage suitability by listing their hobbies as ‘hiking’ and ‘rock climbing.’ Her hobbies include cocaine and gambling, but she leaves those off her profile. Somedays she doesn’t feel like getting out of bed, but if I say I want to get coffee she will walk with […]

National Poetry Month: Opening the Mail

by W. S. Di Piero

April 29, 2021

Posted on April 29, 2021 (April 28, 2021) by Zack Ravas

The notices hit my inbox once a week, it seems,dusty phantasmal names sickly and unwanted.I don’t remember them, the boys from my high school,their Irish, Slavic, Italian names in the “subject” line,put there by Principle Father Rich, once one of us,we tough tender souls weathering snotty skies.The announcements come like rude enchantments, a sullen choirbeseeching with their newly minted news. They were there,as I was, but the names are husks, blowing through time,boys I never knew: Charlie McNally, Cosimo Picucci,Stosh Grzywinski, the Two-Streeters and corner boys,vets, mummers, contractors, bankers, teachers, priests,returning to their place among the infiniteunheard-from dead. The e-mails […]

National Poetry Month: Invitation

by Al Young

April 22, 2021

Posted on April 22, 2021 (April 21, 2021) by Zack Ravas

In memory of Papa Jo Jones & Philly Joe Jones There’ll be all the requisites & O how exquisite the presence of night blooming jazzmen & women, flowering in aurora borealis like all the rounded midnights & Moscow nights and New Delhi dawns you ever wanted to drop in on or sit in with or pencil into your calendar of unscheduled delights. There’ll be love in all its liquid power, rhythmic & brassy; mellifluous forms, flashing flesh & the slippery glittering skin of your teeth; enchantment, male & female; the orchid chords of hothouse scat as pop song, as darkness […]