Quite Excellent

Read by Zoe Malia Luz Photo by unknown on PxHere

Read by Steven Potts Photo by Rifqi 'Adil on Scopio

Photo by Pablo Nidam on Scopio

Photo by Lucas Yamakawa on Scopio

How to Triumph Like a Girl By Ada Limón I like the lady horses best, how they make it all look easy, like running 40 miles per hour is as fun as taking a nap, or grass. I like their lady horse swagger, after winning. Ears up, girls, ears up! But mainly, let’s be honest, I like that they’re ladies. As if this big dangerous animal is also a part of me, that somewhere inside the delicate skin of my b...

Allowables By: Nikki Giovanni I killed a spider Not a murderous brown recluse Nor even a black widow And if the truth were told this Was only a small Sort of papery spider Who should have run When I picked up the book But she didn’t And she scared me And I smashed her I don’t think I’m allowed To kill something Because I am Frightened

You Get Proud by Practicing by Laura Hershey If you are not proud for who you are, for what you say, for how you look; if every time you stop to think of yourself, you do not see yourself glowing with golden light; do not, therefore, give up on yourself. You can get proud. You do not need a better body, a purer spirit, or a Ph. D. to be proud. You do not need a lot of money, a handsome boyfriend,...

The (actual) very last episode of the year. Poet José Olivarez answers questions from my students

My Therapist Says Make Friends with Your Monsters José Olivarez we are gathered in truce because my therapist said it was time to stop running,  & i pay my therapist too much to be wrong, so i am here. my monsters look almost human in the sterile office light. my monsters say they want to be friends. i remember when we first met, me & my monsters. i remember the moment i planted each one. each tim...

My Therapist Says Make Friends with Your Monsters José Olivarez we are gathered in truce because my therapist said it was time to stop running,  & i pay my therapist too much to be wrong, so i am here. my monsters look almost human in the sterile office light. my monsters say they want to be friends. i remember when we first met, me & my monsters. i remember the moment i planted each one. each tim...

“The Facebook Sonnet” By Sherman Alexie Welcome to the endless high-school Reunion. Welcome to past friends And lovers, however kind or cruel. Let’s undervalue and unmend The present. Why can’t we pretend Every stage of life is the same? Let’s exhume, resume, and extend Childhood. Let’s all play the games That occupy the young. Let fame And shame intertwine. Let one’s search For God become public...

01:32 - Michael DuBon reads his poem, “In the Wash” 03:30 - Extended conversation with Michael on student analysis 17:28 - Michael answers student questions

“Instructions on Not Giving Up” Ada Limón More than the fuchsia funnels breaking out of the crabapple tree, more than the neighbor’s almost obscene display of cherry limbs shoving their cotton candy-colored blossoms to the slate sky of Spring rains, it’s the greening of the trees that really gets to me. When all the shock of white and taffy, the world’s baubles and trinkets, leave the pavement str...

Michael DuBon “In the Wash” Arms deep, filth-clad, toilet toil: working at The Ski Tahoe Resort. Scrubbing this mess of spiders, disposing the cast off suppositories, the tracks of geriatric indulgence. Work, where people don’t know how to talk to you. Where the other housekeepers won’t trade Spanish with you because you’re not Latino enough, too American. Where one day you hear a voice from behin...

Anne Stevenson “The Victory” I thought you were my victory though you cut me like a knife when I brought you out of my body into your life. Tiny antagonist, gory, blue as a bruise. The stains of your cloud of glory bled from my veins. How can you dare, blind thing, blank insect eyes? You barb the air. You sting with bladed cries. Snail. Scary knot of desires. Hungry snarl. Small son. Why do I have...

Marilyn Nelson “Asparagus” He taught me how to slurp asparagus: You hold it in your fingers, eat the stem by inches to the tender terminus, then close your eyes and suck in the sweet gem. First, cook it in its own delicious steam, sauté breadcrumbs in butter separately, combine, eat slowly. As he ate, a gleam in his eyes twinkled with such jeu d'esprit, it made me drunk with longing. In my chair a...

Video: https://youtu.be/z90PMOedR3Y