Tag: Susan Vespoli

Letter to a Diane Seuss sonnet by Susan Vespoli

~ ONE ART ~ Leave a comment

Letter to a Diane Seuss sonnet

       ~ a bouts-rimé sonnet, after page 89 of frank: sonnets

Dear sonnet, I am borrowing just this once
your end words. Remember how even oxblood
would icicle in that chemo room (though
Phoenix summer waited outside to sweat-slick our hair
when we exited the elevator)? Which nurse rocked
the AC in that third-floor room of dripping bags? My
gawd. Was it intentional? I needed antifreeze,
not a thin blanket. I shivered like
I was terrified. Flesh rippling into indigo
goosebumps. A xylophone of bones, bunch
of ribs clattering. When C saw me shaking, he opened
his arms and wrapped his entire being around me. I felt it
warm me from the inside. No words. Silent tongue.
He just held me. Torso, shoulders, heart, palm, thumb.

*

Susan Vespoli is a poet from Phoenix, AZ who needs to write to stay sane. Her poems have appeared in ONE ART, Anti-Heroin Chic, New Verse News, Rattle, Gyroscope Review, and other cool spots. She teaches Wild Writing inspired classes on writers.com and 27powers.org and is the author of four poetry collections. Susan Vespoli – Author, Poet

ONE ART’s Most-Read Poets of 2025

~ ONE ART ~ 1 Comment

ONE ART’s Most-Read Poets of 2025

  1. Kai Coggin
  2. Alison Luterman
  3. Donna Hilbert
  4. Betsy Mars
  5. John Amen
  6. Susan Vespoli
  7. Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer
  8. Tina Em
  9. Kim Addonizio
  10. Molly Fisk
  11. Joseph Fasano
  12. Terri Kirby Erickson
  13. Robbi Nester
  14. James Crews
  15. Abby E. Murray
  16. Allison Blevins
  17. Erin Murphy
  18. john compton
  19. Dana Henry Martin
  20. Alison Hurwitz
  21. Moudi Sbeity
  22. Dick Westheimer
  23. James Feichthaler
  24. Karen Paul Holmes
  25. Naomi Shihab Nye

Note: For poets who published multiple times in ONE ART, in 2025, we are linking to the most-read curated work.

Two Poems by Susan Vespoli

~ ONE ART ~ 9 Comments

Coffee Frother

My upper lip is hugged by sea foam,
frothed by fluff-capped coffee sipped from today’s cup

and I think of Christopher who recently gifted
me this magic Nespresso machine that whips
2% milk into ocean waves of cream

that my tongue licks. A new ritual, this lace
moustaching the beach of my face.

This morning he will arrive to drive
me to another doctor appointment, be by my side.

Tall, calm prompt man, who holds my hand,
kisses my lips, says, “It’ll be alright.”

I click my tongue, then sigh. A new ritual,
to be held by one as reliable as the tide.
Breathe. Let go of fear, lean in.

You’re not alone. Smile at clouds
of foam. Love. New daily rituals.

*

The gut is an aquarium of odd sea creatures

Gauze walls hang between
ER cubicles. Surprise!
You have won a weekend

dancing with machines;
tethered by cords, beeps, drips;
twirls to the toilet.

Orange Jell-O, orange Jell-O,
orange Jell-O, Ginger Ale,
salty brown veg broth.

Blood pressure cuffs
poof and deflate. Needled
clear tube sunk in vein,

duct taped. Wheelchair,
gurney. Short tempered
nurses, some saints.

Big storm blows in.
Christopher leaves you his sweater,
runs to find car in wind.

*

Susan Vespoli is a poet from Phoenix, AZ who needs to write to stay sane. Her poems have appeared in ONE ART, Anti-Heroin Chic, New Verse News, Rattle, Gyroscope Review, and other cool spots. She teaches Wild Writing inspired classes on writers.com and 27powers.org and is the author of four poetry collections. Susan Vespoli – Author, Poet

Two Poems by Susan Vespoli

~ ONE ART ~ 7 Comments

“Horoscope”

         ~ for Kate

You will wake
from the dream
of fentanyl, diagnosis,
homelessness, rise above
the clouds gurgled from a vape pen,

wear white clothes
and pink running shoes,
though still commune
with the invisible,
hear and see what others don’t.

Minimart store clerks
will loan you their phones,
call you “a sweetheart,”
you who travel light,
float in guitar licks
and piano notes
plinked as a child: Für Elise.

You who the Dollar Tree
cashier scorns with her held
breath, her averted
eyes, her lack
of response to your thank
you after ringing
up your Wet Wipes
and trail mix,

she who failed
to see the glow
of your aura,
you who smile
and heal and rise
above all who judge
you as dust.
You are moon.

*

Everything

is rolled between my palms:
brown sugar, peanut butter, unbleached
flour, and salt. Balls form on the creased
map of my hands. Travel line, heart
line, family line, fate line.

On the morning of my daughter’s
37th birthday, I lay it all out
on my kitchen counter, stir
and spoon, press a dozen
planets onto a metal tray. Criss-

cross each one with a wet fork.
Bake. Place in a clear bag.
Drive to the designated meeting
spot. Me and my sack of flat
orbs. Unless you make other choices,

I say (again and again and again),
this is your life. And then, Look
at my eyes. Her, a bird perched
on the passenger seat of my car
pulled by sky out the window.

And so she turns, her green eyes
touch my blue for a second
until she laughs, Your pupils
are so tiny! Me, I love you;
her, I love you, too,

and then goodbye.
Peanut butter cookies.
Intersect of life lines,
tight rope, high wire, thread
of connect. Energetic pinprick of light.

*

Susan Vespoli is a poet from Phoenix, AZ who believes in the power of writing to stay sane. Her poems have appeared in ONE ART, Anti-Heroin Chic, New Verse News, Rattle, Gyroscope Review, and other cool spots. She is the author of four poetry collections. Susan Vespoli – Author, Poet

Cracked by Susan Vespoli

~ ONE ART ~ 6 Comments

Cracked

Near the end of the lawsuit, I fell for him
when I hated every lawyer, even my own.
Christopher, public defender, who doesn’t
believe in god or religion or astrology or fate,
but collects Buddha heads, prayer beads,
lived in a commune in his 20s, reads Rumi,

Mary Oliver, loves Sexton. Stuck a magnetic
peace sign on the bumper of my car. Memorized
all the words to “Hallelujah.” Crooned them
to me over dinner. Believes in justice. How could
you stand it [the toxic legal wrestling pit]? Gentle
smile, says, everyone deserves representation. Case
after case, decades of finesse, respect; cracked
the enamel on his back teeth while he slept.

*

Susan Vespoli is a poet from Phoenix, AZ who believes in the power of writing to stay sane. Her poems have appeared in ONE ART, Anti-Heroin Chic, New Verse News, Rattle, Gyroscope Review, and other cool spots. She is the author of four poetry collections. Susan Vespoli – Author, Poet

Freedom Pantoum by Susan Vespoli

~ ONE ART ~ 8 Comments
Freedom Pantoum
     “Why are you asking me all these questions?” she growls.
      “Because I’m your mother,” I say, “and I have feelings, too.”
When my daughter calls from the 7-11,
she asks me to order junk food online she can pick up from Jack-in-the-Box:
churros, cheesecake, French toast strips, chocolate milkshakes
and I inhale, exhale, and type in my Visa card numbers.
She asks me to buy her supplies from the Dollar Store
and I say, “what’s it like to live on the street?”
and I inhale, exhale, add, “why are you choosing this?”
while internally mantra-ing Al-Anon slogans.
“What it’s LIKE on the street?!” she spits, “I have friends
and freedom and don’t have to go to 10 bullshit meetings a day,”
and I internally mantra words I’ve heard at Al-Anon meetings
like LOVE means Let Others Voluntarily Evolve.
Freedom’s just another word for nothing left to lose,
I hear Janis Joplin singing in my head
and it’s hard to let loved ones voluntarily evolve,
so I try bless her, change me and I try the Serenity Prayer.
Janis Joplin was an addict, too: alcohol, heroin, died of an overdose.
“Where do you sleep; are you warm enough?” Her: “a blanket behind a bus stop,”
and I chant, bless her, change me, and I breathe in the Serenity Prayer
every time my daughter calls (or doesn’t call) from the 7-11.
*
Susan Vespoli is a poet from Phoenix, AZ. Her poems have appeared in ONE ART, Anti-Heroin Chic, New Verse News, Rattle, and other cool spots. Susan is the author of three poetry collections and leads Wild-Writing circles on 27Powers.org and writers.com. Susan Vespoli – Author, Poet

ONE ART’s Top 25 Most-Read Poets of 2024

~ ONE ART ~ 2 Comments

ONE ART’s Top 25 Most-Read Poets of 2024

  1. Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer
  2. Betsy Mars
  3. Donna Hilbert
  4. Abby E. Murray
  5. Robbi Nester
  6. Julie Weiss
  7. john compton
  8. Tina Barry
  9. Timothy Green
  10. Kim Addonizio
  11. Andrea Potos
  12. Kari Gunter-Seymour
  13. Callie Little
  14. Alison Luterman
  15. Robin Wright
  16. Sally Nacker
  17. Trish Hopkinson
  18. Christina Kallery
  19. Vicki Boyd
  20. Terri Kirby Erickson
  21. Susan Vespoli
  22. Bonnie Proudfoot
  23. Scott Ferry & Leilani Ferry
  24. Martha Silano
  25. Joan Mazza

Note: Some poets were published multiple times in ONE ART in 2024. Links are to each poet’s most-read poem(s) of the year.

Two Poems by Susan Vespoli

~ ONE ART ~ 5 Comments

Ode to the Modified Serenity Prayer

      “Grant me the serenity to accept the people I cannot change,
      the courage to change the one I can, and the wisdom to know it’s me.”

Your daughter camps near the methadone
clinic in a sea of bench and canal sleepers.

She’s lost another phone or charger or backpack,
wears a ball cap over her sunburnt face.

You could tell her to go back to the hospital
or sober living or Soul Surgery Treatment Center

or the 90-day rehab she left after four days.
You could drive her to Walmart, the Dollar Store,

buy her a phone charger, more clothes, shoes,
instant coffee, oatmeal, peanut butter, candy,

wring your hands, feel sick to your stomach
as she smiles, climbs out of your car, saying, “Yes,

I’d rather live on the street.” You could pretend
she’s gone to Woodstock, that it’s 1969, that addicts

are just kids passing through a phase where they drop
acid, wear tie-dye, dance in the rain to Canned Heat.

Or you could repeat the modified serenity prayer
            over and over and over and over,

then drive home, park your car, kiss your own
goddamn good life just as four geese fly over
your flowered front yard and honk.

*

Driving to pick up my daughter while wearing a purple T-shirt graphic-ed with Edvard Munch’s The Scream

      ~ “Do whatever you can do to support her healthy choices, not enable.” ~
            — my grief therapist

Head down, hands on the wheel,
breathe in the screeching bus, the careening
light rail, the two lanes of traffic closed
by a row of orange cones.

Breathe in 19th Ave. – a street
to avoid when you can.
Overflowing trash cans,
people lost or stumbling
or sleeping on a bench under a tarp.

Breathe. Breathe. Look up

at the unexpected flash of palm trees,
maybe 30 of them. Tall thin bristle-up
paint brushes that have caught the end-
of-the-day sun and they glow

like taper candles or hope:
this oasis of thrive rising above
billboards, asphalt, sirens,
rooftops and all the gas pumps at the Circle K.

*

Susan Vespoli is a poet from Phoenix, AZ. Her poems have appeared in ONE ART, Rattle, Anti-Heroin Chic, Gyroscope Review, and other cool spots. Susan is the author of Blame It on the Serpent (Finishing Line Press), Cactus as Bad Boy (Kelsay Books), and One of Them Was Mine (Kelsay Books). Susan Vespoli – Author, Poet

ONE ART’s Top 25 Most-Read Poets of 2023

~ ONE ART ~ 4 Comments

~ ONE ART’s Top 25 Most-Read Poets of 2023 ~

1. Abby E. Murray
2. Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer
3. Betsy Mars
4. Donna Hilbert
5. Linda Laderman
6. Alison Luterman
7. Julie Weiss
8. Robbi Nester
9. Roseanne Freed
10. Karen Paul Holmes
11. Heather Swan
12. Timothy Green
13. James Diaz
14. Jane Edna Mohler
15. John Amen
16. Barbara Crooker
17. Jim Daniels
18. Susan Vespoli
19. Sean Kelbley
20. Susan Zimmerman
21. Kip Knott
22. Jennifer Garfield
23. Margaret Dornaus
24. Paula J. Lambert
25. Gail Thomas

After a long dark night of grief by Susan Vespoli

~ ONE ART ~ 6 Comments

After a long dark night of grief

get out of bed. Step over the sleeping
dogs. Open all the shutters. Go outside
and look at the sky. Watch the fiery fried egg
rise from the horizon under gray puffball
clouds that suddenly turn pink, like an ocean
of cotton candy and you remember the young
woman at Tuesday’s Buddhist 12-Step meeting
who said something about a pink-cloud moment,
and you realize that this is a pink-cloud moment
as a ring of birds starts circling and circling
above the palm trees as if they are dancing.

*

Susan Vespoli is a poet from Phoenix, AZ. Her poems have appeared in ONE ART, Rattle, Anti-Heroin Chic, Gyroscope Review, and others. She is the author of Blame It on the Serpent (Finishing Line Press), Cactus As Bad Boy (Kelsay Books), and One of Them Was Mine (Kelsay Books). susanvespoli.com

Driving My Granddaughter Back to Her Dad’s House by Susan Vespoli

~ ONE ART ~ 2 Comments

Driving My Granddaughter Back to Her Dad’s House

Spring
trees covered
with blossoms toss
shade over bus stops. Yellow
palo verde and purple jacaranda
offering refuge to roofless beings
on a street where my son
was roused from sleep
by a cop, then shot
on his last
24-hours
alive.

Shopping
carts piled with
blankets, plastic bags,
a man holding a cardboard
sign at the stoplight: HUNGRY.
People huddled in the shadow
of the onramp. A roadside
altar: flowers and
a wooden
cross.

I drop
into a litany
of what I might
have done differently
until Molly points and shouts, Look!
from her car seat. Two massive
trees backlit in sunlight,
lavender and gold
shimmering
like wind
chimes.

*

Susan Vespoli is a poet from Phoenix, AZ. Susan’s poems have appeared in Rattle, Anti-Heroin Chic, New Verse News, Mom Egg Review, Gyroscope Review, and others. She is the author of Blame It on the Serpent (Finishing Line Press, Jan. 2022) and Cactus as Bad Boy (Kelsay Books, 2023). https://susanvespoli.com/