Clouds doted on the sea, amorousness Was in the air returning every wave and sigh. Vallum Poetrys new issue explores the theme of fear contributors include Nicole Brossard, George Elliott Clarke, and me. Nature (all of it) Did exist and loved itself. During my brief tenure I loved loving best One who didn’t exist. This was the hardest part assigned to me. This contest has an entry fee (25.00 for Canadians, 30.00 For US and International entrants). Elana Wolffs poems illuminate the porousness of. The Literary Magazine Vallum is having a poetry contest. A faraway land And a hotel I never visited In a ghost-book half-erased You could tell I was in love with a non-entity. Thin is the line between dreaming and wakefulness, wellness and disorder, here and there, this and that. Time had thinned for gravity and a speeding apple Since time was lightweight and invisible. Both 1st and 2nd prize-winning poems will be published in Vallum Magazine and on Vallums website. One puddle looked just like the world-marble. Payments are processed through our Submittable account. The submission fee is 25 for Canadian entrants, 30 for U.S. The ceiling collapsed from heavy rain and artificial colors condensed along the sidewalk. The 2022 Vallum Poetry Award is open for submissions until July 15 The winner of the Vallum Poetry Award receives 750 and one finalist will receive 250, as well as publication in Vallum magazine. I walked by foot all over dungeons to see a film starring friends- Americans. When you are down to nothing more to call on OR you can say I walked Manhattan from sundown to dawn. Poetry International, Vallum, Poem, The Adirondack Review, Spillway, Atlanta Review, World Literature Today, Wasafiri and other journals worldwide. To be described as a note that separates from a song and blows away. We smiled our way forward perfectly even. We were almost romantic Not knotted but erect side by side passively waiting for an apocalyptic collision to rupture the grave tension between wholly conscious ontological thinking and the steel pebbling motion of tracks sparked into action by a fiery touch. You met me at the subway where tracks led east to North Station and on up to Cape Ann. You’re allowed to fear the coming hallucinations, she added. They lay down that night not looking for a real thing but for a way back.

None of them remembered collecting or dreaming. Are you collecting material for dreams, she asked the audience. Proof that you lived is that you kept notebooks. Who did what? The closed book, the feet asleep. Friends whacking at invisible ankles and you. The ordeal of dying must be memory, so much seeing and losing forms.

Vallum poetry