I have happened upon a few poems recently that just …wow. Like, seriously, wow.

Here are links to them, with excerpts, so you can wow too.

“A Pity. We Were Such a Good Invention” by Yehuda Amichai

They amputated
your thighs off my hips.
As far as I’m concerned
they are all surgeons. All of them.

“Lack of Grace” by Christina Seymour, in the new issue of Cider Press Review

Not one but two tire swings hang from the shattered maple
in the neighbor’s yard, part of spinning we never give up.

Since it hurts not to, being-with-you must be compulsory,
a respite from a heavy sigh that can’t be lifted.

“My Story in a Late Style of Fire” by Larry Levis

If my house burned down tomorrow morning, & if I & my wife
And son stood looking on at the flames, & if, then
Someone stepped out of the crowd of bystanders
And said to me: “Didn’t you once know. . . ?” No. But if
One of the flames, rising up in the scherzo of fire, turned
All the windows blank with light, & if that flame could speak,
And if it said to me: “You loved her, didn’t you?” I’d answer,
Hands in my pockets, “Yes.” And then I’d let fire & misfortune
Overwhelm my life.