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    To Remain
    The Sun InterviewBy Judith HertogTo RemainRaja Shehadeh on Living through Destruction in Palestine

    I have been thinking that people all over the world these days are feeling a sense of despair because, like me, they are seeing the destruction of the world as they knew it. But it has occurred to me that the real destruction of my world happened in 1948, when the Palestinians lost Palestine.

    Distractions
    Readers WriteBy Our ReadersDistractions

    Reading at work, listening to music during labor, swatting gnats while meditating

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Browse Sections

Poetry

    Poetry

    Los Vecinos

    And we’re included in the golden circle / of familia, through no virtue / of our own, yet here she is again at our door / with a plate of something delicious, or a big plastic bag / filled with nopales from the edible pads / of the giant cactus in their yard

    By Alison LutermanMarch 2026
    Los Vecinos
    Poetry

    Indecision

    “Whether you go up the ladder or down it,” / says the Tao, “your position is shaky.”

    By Kenneth HartMarch 2026
    Poetry

    Lasciare Stare

    My father took a puff from his Camel / and dispatched his message / in smoky cursive, Lasciare stare, / then said it again softly

    By Joseph BathantiFebruary 2026
    Poetry

    Love Language

    I read somewhere that most men receive flowers / for the first time at their funeral. So I filled a vase / in your apartment with puckered roses

    By Madelyn ChenFebruary 2026
    Poetry

    The Eulogy I Didn’t Give (V)

    Are you writing his eulogy in advance? Are you afraid / to sleep at night? Afraid your bones are planning / their escape? And what do you mean by love? 

    By Bob HicokFebruary 2026
    Poetry

    I Always Wanted a Wife

    I didn’t mean to / eat your berries, he’d sing after eating / all the blackberries I’d been saving / for breakfast, and I couldn’t be mad then / because he’d made me laugh.

    By Claire McQuerryJanuary 2026
    Poetry

    Tassajara

    The abbot declared your beloved pit bull had Buddha nature, / so you carried her sixty muscled pounds to the mountain // monastery, where we sat sesshin and she ate wool socks, / a box of chocolates, and eight pages of Robert Aitken.

    By Rachael PetersenJanuary 2026
    Poetry

    The Patron Saint of Suburban Foxes

    . . . Her own orange, though, deepens / in shadow to red, like condensed autumn, and makes her almost invisible / against the brick she edges past / on her burnt-matchstick legs

    By James Davis MayDecember 2025
    The Patron Saint of Suburban Foxes
    Poetry

    Pinkie Masters

    A good scare can cure anything, she says. / We nod, and I thank her but insist / on holding my breath all night.

    By Gary JacksonDecember 2025
    Pinkie Masters
    Poetry

    Selected Poems

    I know now, / having woken / and climbed away from you / in the chill / that I can do it. / Cast a spell / on my body.

    By Sybil SmithNovember 2025
    Selected Poems
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