Wednesday, January 16, 2019


Very happy to share this poem of mine that's now up at Ovenbird! It was inspired by watching and rewatching Moana with my older son (among other things). Read the poem here, and check out the entire issue here. And if you haven't seen Moana, please do yourself a favor and immediately watch!

Tuesday, September 11, 2018

My Writing Day

A big thank you to Rob McClennan (whose work I've long followed) for including me in his new project about how writers spend their days (click the link to read my piece). As you know, I've long been interested in process...but it's so messy and unconsolidated for me in my current life. And that's not a bad thing.

Have you ever recorded and shared how your day goes down? Or analyzed the changes in your own creative rituals and schedules? It's bizarre and very revealing.

Thursday, May 24, 2018

Paint the Cake With Fire

"Surprise Party," by Frederic Belaubre

Paint the Cake With Fire

For the first days weeks of a baby’s life all
we say is Look how tiny he is and beautiful
And then within a month or two it starts
Look how big she’s getting
How is time moving so quickly
Invent a new creature
and through him time emerges
At first you are the new creature
and then you can only marvel at the small
ones emerging from it seems nowhere
And the new ones make us old and uncool
which means we know the unendingness
of time has ended
And no one declares at our birthdays
Look how old she is
and still alive
except for ourselves

Wednesday, May 23, 2018

New poem up in Matter--"Also Me"

Happy spring, everyone! I'm really pleased to have a new poem up at Matter, which bills itself as "A (somewhat) monthly journal of political poetry and commentary." You can read the poem here.

I really love what the editors, Virginia Konchan and Glenn Shaheen, do with this space, and I'm honored to share an issue with some other wonderful poets (including my pal Leah Umansky, who has beautiful collages in the issue!).

Thursday, January 25, 2018

Family Vacation

Family Vacation

I am on a beach
I am in a poem
I write to you from the inside of it

On vacation it will be 3:30
and you will have done nothing
except for nap

and turn the bed into Beach, Jr.
with the sand you wore
and keep finding

A family is a nap
is a door we close to chaos
a quiet room not always quiet in a loud house

One night it came to me
as I listened from the balcony
The ocean is the world’s pulse

The beach will teach us
dishevelment and disorder
and how to hang onto light
The Storialist. All rights reserved. © Maira Gall.