• September 8, 2017 - Jenny Kelly Wagner

    Migrating Birds

    I don’t want to be like Migrating birds anymore. Goddamn those birds… The way they cruise above it all Fabulous unfettered feathery freedom and Increasingly hollow bones. Goddamn the way they don’t even pack a suitcase (Goddamn their Irish goodbyes) The way they skim the surface of the Orb Without ever memorizing her scars Without […]

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  • August 11, 2017 - Jenny Kelly Wagner

    Lost Time

    Welcome to summer in smalltown USA. All the suntanned superfluous kids The twentysomething thirtysomething kids Close their laptops and Surge up out of the suburban Earth From natal basements Like earthworms onto the sidewalk To search for meaning in the rain. They wander past the trading post on Golden evenings in tall unassuming farm grass […]

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  • July 17, 2017 - Jenny Kelly Wagner

    Cracked (a poem for Max Trujillo)

    We have on this Earth all that makes life worth living Or I do, anyways. She gave me her tired and her poor and her unwashed masses and I and I and I didn’t know what to do with them and I couldn’t I couldn’t I Couldn’t carry them with me but didn’t know where […]

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  • May 10, 2017 - Jenny Kelly Wagner

    You Can’t Reinvent the Wheel

    I write this today because I am a woman and I hail from the United States, where new healthcare legislation is threatening to legally equate much of what it means to be female with disability. Say hello to the American Health Care Act, the Republican delivery on the longstanding promise to “repeal and replace Obamacare,” […]

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  • April 19, 2017 - Jenny Kelly Wagner

    Like Nagasaki after the bomb

    This Spring sunset is the most beautiful Work of art I know anything about And tickets cost nothing. Doesn’t it break your heart a little bit To be living life on a day so delicious Without any guarantee of Another day? Isn’t it exquisite to be alive in a world that’s ending? Beautiful, in the […]

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  • March 6, 2017 - Jenny Kelly Wagner

    You, man.

    Today is raw, unwrapped, uncooked A day that peels away the layers of film Between me and all the things that Terrify me about being human: Pointlessness Death Being alone Missing out And casual dating. (The usual suspects) Today I got naked and joined a Jazz band full of strangers The trumpets knocked down Walls […]

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  • Goodbye, and thank you To the land that never once asked me “What are you doing here?” To the people who never blamed me For a second of my people’s history and Never once told me “Go back to where you came from” To the people who agreed to be my Friends and family Even […]

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  • January 26, 2017 - Jenny Kelly Wagner

    Your Dining Experience Has Been Interrupted

    The third class passengers have known the Truth, for years. The Truth is, this ship has been sinking for a long time. And now it has a Captain. Let’s wake up and smell that the storm that is brewing is Un-president-ed Hitler’s U-boats and Berlin’s Wall are pale child’s toys Compared to this page of […]

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  • January 12, 2017 - Jenny Kelly Wagner

    We’re Toast. Use Your Butter Wisely.

    Well, this is it. The unconscionable political transition approaches. We have about a week left until a morally reprehensible power-fame-and-money-hungry loose cannon ascends the throne of the most heavily armed crumbling empire in the history of the world. I’ve been dealing with this too-big-to-swallow idea by taking an art class. I’m learning to paint corn. […]

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  • December 17, 2016 - Jenny Kelly Wagner

    El Camino a Su Mesa

    You give yourself to the roads Upending the bundle of yourself Unwrapping the preciously woven cloth of your skin You allow the carefully collected contents To spill all over the floor Pearls and pieces of jade Clack like dominoes on the kitchen tiles Your Grandmother scoops up the scattered stones With her wrinkled cacao seed hands […]

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  • November 9, 2016 - Jenny Kelly Wagner

    Do We Defect When Things Get Defective?

    Last weekend, I was chatting with some nice people from Europe and found myself in a position I don’t usually end up— in defense of the United States. You’re from America? They ask me off-handedly. A backwards place filled with guns. Really, I have no interest in ever going there. I have a flashback to […]

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  • October 5, 2016 - Jenny Kelly Wagner

    Nobody’s Traveling Shoes

    Himalayan honkfest Three old Nepali men in sweater vests And this blonde girl are squeezed improbably Into the backseat of the Jeep My sopping wet umbrella drips on cheap Silver ballet flats I wore to the wedding last year Impulsively spending the day’s salary On the musical instrument nestled between my feet Somewhere there is […]

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  • August 30, 2016 - Jenny Kelly Wagner

    I am sorry but I can’t sit with you here

    I am sorry, but I can’t sit with you here. It’s not that I have an unfounded fear of Steel and cement buildings or yellow fog Or fluorescent lights or window panes It’s just that conference rooms remind me that There are those who Would try to make a pie chart Out of my wild […]

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  • August 7, 2016 - Jenny Kelly Wagner

    Chess on Yemoja’s Board

    Twenty seven years of life And you think I would have learned That any and every move I try to take Is hubris in the face of a planet With a gravitational pull the size of Saturn’s Just because you know you’re about to get broken open Doesn’t mean you can preemptively come at your […]

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