A Poem By Rae Armantrout


You feed yourself
frothy maple Greek

mousse whip. Each
bite a virgin.

Promiscuity and sloth
no longer sins

after what you’ve done.


Or you have perfect

of past events
which no longer

seem unjust.
Your “Oh”

a sphere,
a song.


in the afterlife,

roots rip
from your sockets,

new brains
in their tips,

scouting for water

Rae Armantrout’s most recent books of poetry are Just Saying (2013) and Money Shot (2011). Versed (2009) received the Pulitzer Prize and the National Book Critics Circle Award. She teaches at the University of California, San Diego.

You will find more poems here. You may contact the editor at poems@theawl.com.