ONLY poems listed here or in the current printed anthology are eligible for the 2017-2018 competition.
Women have no wilderness in them,
They are provident instead,
Content in the tight hot cell of their hearts...
Loaf after loaf, in several sizes,
and never does it not look fresh,
as though its insides weren’t moist...
The simple contact with a wooden spoon and the word
recovered itself, began to spread as grass, forced
as it lay sprawling to consider the monument where ...
All Nature seems at work. Slugs leave their lair—
The bees are stirring—birds are on the wing—
And Winter slumbering in the open air, ...
As this suburban summer wanders toward dark
cats watch from their driveways — they are bored
and await miracles. The houses show, through windows...
The world is too much with us; late and soon,
Getting and spending, we lay waste our powers;—
Little we see in Nature that is ours;...
I was born in minutes in a roadside kitchen a skilletwhispering my name. I was born to rainwater and lye;
I was born across the river where I
was borrowed with clothespins, a harrow tooth,...
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