PEN Poetry Series

Once a week, the PEN Poetry Series publishes work by emerging and established writers from coast to coast. The series is edited by Danniel Schoonebeek, along with guest editors TC Tolbert, Dawn Lundy Martin, and Brian Blanchfield. Subscribe to the PEN Poetry Series mailing list and have poems delivered to your email as soon as they're published. Submissions are currently closed, but please feel free to familiarize yourself with our submission guidelines. Our current response time is about 3-6 months. Please follow up with info@pen.org if you haven't heard from us after six months. 

September 22, 16

What this poet calls slippery, what I call smart. Like it matters, like I’m not / pulling rent money out of a dog’s ass. // I was wrong. I want everything. I want to be fucked like the wife who waited / for her soldier’s return, fucked: the island...Read More  »

September 15, 16

The I / the guy / retouched / like a billboard / or some kink / you crossed / the line / into bearded / disappearance / you know / that I would / serve the club / mortal and / corrupt Read More  »

September 7, 16

perhaps the limits of my erotic imagination are boring and predictable // but I will die grateful // for the adolescence I got to have offline // that pines sometimes obscured the view // was entirely the point Read More  »

August 31, 16

I’m not the same as myself // I’m not the opposite of myself // I’m downstream from the values of some ancient warrior class that got to decide what men and women are / Not that they knew they were doing it Read More  »

August 25, 16

These are the things I did with the stick: / chewed it, waved it to the sky, poked myself / in the eye, pretended it was a daisy, pretended / it was an orchid, a tulip, lily, cigarette, / made it into a gun and shot my brother, nudged my brother to...Read More  »

August 17, 16

the person I love / has a yellow spot in his eye / if he closes that eye several states away / does it still exist // the bells were ringing / when I left the building / this time that they’re saying / it doesn’t exist Read More  »

August 10, 16

unforld mye folde / lik / a chylde debarkynge the old / treee / ekspektynge a hole / mye fase 2 the flore / off a feeld / becums me / wut is / a hole if not a thynge 2 emptie Read More  »

August 3, 16

(code of) a black cat projected onto a white wall / (code of) a 404 Not Found projected onto a white cat / (code of) a flower painting projected onto a glass wall // (code of) my brother projected onto his daughter / (code of) my mother projected...Read More  »

July 29, 16

In the opposite of woods, in the red ever, I am hungry and you are. // I used to have this job, the bodies entered all at once in a line, towing their essentials. / Workers left, as I, it’s hard to say whether it was for love. Read More  »

July 21, 16

I haven’t yet begun to use metaphors. / It’s still raining. I don’t use metaphors. / My heart is black and quiet. / My heart has not yet begun to beat. // the horror / the horror Read More  »


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