Vismai Rao
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vismai.bsky.social
Vismai Rao
@vismai.bsky.social
210 followers 95 following 13 posts
Poems: Up the Staircase Quarterly, Salamander, Rust + Moth, Jet Fuel Review, Ucity Review, & others | Edits: Night Heron Barks, Ran off with the Star Bassoon | https://linktr.ee/vismai
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vismai.bsky.social
Excited to soon reappear in the pages of @rustandmoth.bsky.social, a forever favourite 💜
Sharing 'Ode to Em Dash' that found a home with them five years ago :)
rustandmoth.com/work/ode-to-...
July 23, 2025 at 11:52 AM
vismai.bsky.social
"But why the last? I ask. Why not
live each day as if it were the first—
all raw astonishment, Eve rubbing
her eyes awake that first morning"
~Linda Pastan

poets.org/poem/imagina...
July 10, 2025 at 9:54 AM
vismai.bsky.social
A delightfully tragicomic poem by Matt Cariello in @rustandmoth.bsky.social
rustandmoth.com/work/the-bro...
May 25, 2025 at 1:01 PM
vismai.bsky.social
Sharing an old poem titled 'On Valentine's Day...' on Valentine's Day though it's not 'on' Valentine's Day :)

from Issue 64 of @upthestaircase.bsky.social
www.upthestaircase.org/vismai-rao-i...
February 14, 2025 at 4:43 PM
vismai.bsky.social
Slow-reading @susanlleary.bsky.social's poignant meditations on grief @triohousepress.bsky.social
This work is a gift 💜
Cover of Susan L Leary's collection 'Dressing the Bear,' Winner of the 2023 Louise Bogan Award: A big white flower with a mustard/brown button at center against a blue background. Twisted Threads When we look to God, we mean to look head-on at what’s in our peripheral vision, but God is tied to the periphery by a taut string. As we glance to the right or left, God moves proportionally out of view. Why? we ask. The better question: How did the string come to be there? When I dream of my brother, we sit side-by-side in a 1969 grabber blue Shelby. We talk normal talk, but my brother refuses to face me. As I turn towards him, he turns towards the window. As I turn back to the dash, so does he. We move in sync like this for hours. It is the dreamer who dreams, but how do those who visit the dreamer come to be there? How does God or my brother begin to relax the string? At some point, I ask my brother to take me to the hospital or the morgue. It doesn’t matter which. I can’t, he says: You’re driving.
November 23, 2024 at 10:42 AM