“What a mess I have made with nothing but an idea that I am not enough.”— Chloë Frayne, instagram.com
“we touch, with no idea of holding and I say it is okay but there is forever on my breath; there is always on my hands and I know you are just a moment.”— Chloë Frayne, instagram.com
“That’s the thing about pushing people away; you don’t get to be surprised when it works.”— Chloë Frayne, instagram.com
“Today I forgive myself for wanting what never wanted me. Today I let you go.”— Chloë Frayne, instagram.com
“And we are all just fighting to survive a world where I miss you doesn’t mean I’m coming back and I love you doesn’t mean I’ll stay.”— Chloë Frayne, instagram.com
“You don’t get to say you miss me if you could have had me this whole time but chose not to.”— Chloë Frayne, instagram.com
“and I add your name to the list of things I survived this year. note it: barely.”— Chloë Frayne, instagram.com
“you only really wanted me when your life felt empty. and I wanted you in rush hour traffic. a room full of people. even through all the noise.”— Chloë Frayne, instagram.com
“I thought of all the things I wanted to say to you and I swallowed a sea.”— Chloë Frayne, instagram.com
“And I am sorry to say, I tied my forevers to someone who didn’t know how to stay.”— Chloë Frayne, instagram.com
“At these moments of national crisis, the words that spread and the words that were heard were not the words of politicians, they were the words of poets.”— Susannah Herbert, Donna Ferguson, theguardian.com
“But, as with all great poetry, there is pleasure in reading Oliver on one’s own. Her work rewards close, repeated readings, on a snowy day or after a long hike.”— rachel syme, newyorker.com
“the new grocery store sells real cheese, edging out the plastic bodega substitute. the new neighbors know how to feed their children, treat themselves to oysters sometimes. other times, to brunch. finally, some good pastrami around these parts. new cafe on broadway. new trees in the sidewalk. everyo…”— Franny Choi, apmpodcasts.org
“lay me down on eye-white snow my slow brooding bed of robin wings my body slit & smearing everywhere. I will not name this new opening a wound. here, there is no pain I didn’t beg for. I heard the howl, didn’t dare run. stood waiting for the sweet blades of jaw & claw. you found me wasted no time ma…”— Danez Smith, apmpodcasts.org
“Because the road to our house is a back road, meadowlands punctuated by gravel quarry and lumberyard, there are unexpected travelers some nights on our way home from work. Once, on the lawn of the Tool and Die Company, a swan; the word doesn’t convey the shock of the thing, white architecture rippli…”— Mark Doty, apmpodcasts.org