Ancient grains

It was evident already as a child that my palms were sticky with the past.

Jan 8 • Maaike VanderMeer

7

8

December 2025

‘Cure’ is an old word

A poem for Christmas.

Dec 25, 2025 • Maaike VanderMeer

8

8

1

An editor says, the publishing industry is entirely teeth.

A poem to end a semester of MFA.

Dec 18, 2025 • Maaike VanderMeer

9

8

1

Recipe for oliebollen

Missing a person is the smallest waiting.

Dec 4, 2025 • Maaike VanderMeer

9

6

2

November 2025

We’re all born with 27 acorns of doubt.

Or at least I was, but the caps kept falling off and doubling the number.

Nov 20, 2025 • Maaike VanderMeer

9

5

1

The future smells like dishsoap and ink

and Jack's magic beans.

Nov 6, 2025 • Maaike VanderMeer

7

11

3

October 2025

Climbing Teapot Hill

Your whole future, your whole past, we tell each other, can slip between the folds of the cedar’s bark.

Oct 23, 2025 • Maaike VanderMeer

5

13

How to capture a day

A poem for the end of things.

Oct 16, 2025 • Maaike VanderMeer

12

6

2

Love and dark greens

A lyric essay.

Oct 9, 2025 • Maaike VanderMeer

3

1

1

Just like that, it's maize season.

Visiting a traditional healer.

Oct 2, 2025 • Maaike VanderMeer

5

5

September 2025

I was his interpreter.

A lyric essay from the Congo Basin + more exciting news!

Sep 25, 2025 • Maaike VanderMeer

8

16

1

In the future, a feast.

Even the crows will come.

Sep 18, 2025 • Maaike VanderMeer

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5