Index Previous Next Winner of the 2019 Folio Editor's Prize Ode for an Ode on a Grecian Urn Ode, let your sorrows go. Let brides be ravished, trees forsake their leaves, let lovers kiss and fade, daughters age. Let loss be the elixir that induces a new legend, new urn-dream: Forests that seed, mature, starve, and reseed without our overtures. Let wanting, waiting, pacing be the rings in carbon dating. A new museum piece. Imagine yearning bigger than an urn, bigger than god; desire out of bounds, desire crowned. Paint it fulfilled, the turning back of hounds. What good is song if not the end of one man’s wish, what-ifs? I died at twenty-five. So many do. Urn, make your story new: Beauty is truth when sung to a priest’s staccato voice and tone near a young marine’s too-heavy, too mature, burial stone; when love betrayed makes lovers stutter phrases – sweet clichés – that they used to say alone. Put it in stone: Beauty is truth when sung to the beat of a child’s quiet feet leaving home; when aging lovers sing to one another: Remember when we used to rock in one another’s arms and we knew god and the devil’s charms? . Copyright © 2019 M. B. McLatchey. All rights reserved. Winner of the 2019 Folio annual Editor's Prize for Poetry . Published in Folio Volume 34, May 2019.

Index Previous Next War in Eurasia We shall squeeze you empty, and then we shall fill you with ourselves. - Orwell, 1984 We sleep like guard dogs, one eye open, groomed to unlock from one another’s folds. Older, a cooler grey than our adult years. Your breast, like a forbidden prayer or scent or thought, presses against my arm. The war in Eurasia rages on. The dull flicker of the TV; the news anchor’s lips tattooed a deep party red mouthing vowels: A and E, and O – not I or U. Everything in black and white, or streams of sepia. We hardly remember the difference between the news and truer truths; the sum of two plus two. Harvest seasons pass. Dictionaries yield a sulphury marsh gas. Winters sprout days of halcyon, golden wheat. We yearn for myths that lean on goddesses of crops, a mother’s loss and rage, a revenge drought. Love is the warrior’s call. We knew it in the womb, first breath, when we were made to choose: a dying art, or this waking death. . Copyright © 2022 M. B. McLatchey. All rights reserved. Published in Sequestrum , Issue 32, June 2022.

Index Previous Next Learning the Scriptures Molusco … Aqui… Aqui. Bucket in hand, I follow his lead. His silhouette in the early light strikes a perfect toe point – not ballet but the liturgy’s greeting in a sun-steamed fandango. The hard, muddy floor of low tide, his stage. I see a clam spit where he taps his toe. Plunging my fingers into the cold, black muck, I wriggle it out: meal and sacrifice. A ritual-like rhythm that the dance ignites. When we steam the clams, the smell of vinegar and hops bubbling in the broth overtakes us. A purifying incense. Pabst Blue Ribbon for him and since I am ten, Porto with Ginger Al e. In the pot the clams flower and pop. Pelican-like, he tips his head back to let the fat belly slide down whole. Delicioso . Body, blood, soul, divinity. Clean-shaven for Mass. Brown. Azorean. Vovô , to me. A welcome substitute to the homily: Tap. Plunge. Smell. Dance. Taste . But not in a faith, not in a language I knew yet. . Copyright © 2018 M. B. McLatchey. All rights reserved. Published in Naugatuck River Review : A Journal of Narrative Poetry That Sings, Summer/Fall 2018 – Issue 20.

Index Previous Next Invocation In this bar’s suspended lights, a halo hovers over you. The tattoo that you stitched to your neck – mythic spheres, a cluster of unnamed stars, a pyramid – transforms to a sheet of muted notes, or a lusterless, untraveled map once sketched for an epic plan you had to separate, engage the three Fates, their give and take, then bring your long tale home. The bartender asks, OK? And though it means a summoning, you nod and take another fill from her tap; the glass like Waterford the way you hold it still. It takes all you have to drink from this new fountain. To feel the sickening fall of cool, fresh water against your stomach wall. To smell the souring sediment of small bites of food. Good boy, your mother must have crooned, Open wide. And she must have mirror-opened her mouth too as she spooned up solids pureed and fed them to a vision, a mother’s trust, a boy’s long view. Her mission, to nurture the god in you. I am calling her here tonight – to your stool, to this constellation of dying stars; to this yearning – yours and ours – to this well of life’s water, grit and resolution, memories; to the imprint of an infant I held close to me still altering my posture and my scaffolding. . Copyright © 2020 M. B. McLatchey. All rights reserved. Published in Cider Press Review

Index Previous Next Illuminator A girl in the front row admires her press-on nails, a dizzying sheen of rhinestones and whisps of citrine. The warm, low pitch of a peer I have asked to read; chants in tones and half tones – making meaning. I watch as she follows, her forefinger tendril and vine – accidental illuminator bejeweling lines. . Copyright © 2025 M. B. McLatchey. All rights reserved. Published in Porcupine Literary , December 2025.

Index Previous Next On Forgetting Ash Wednesday Between the harvesting and sowing: the stubble burn. Embers recycled from a dying fire; the promising scent of charred straw. Cinders inextinguishable as newfound desire. The calendar plan that out of the slag a new upright row might spring: Lazarus flowers, roses of Jericho. All this to call me home. As if to dress me in a penitent’s sackcloth, when for decades – even now – I would have come on my knees: a girl in love with high relief; stained-glass mysteries; the lightness and the weight of your hanging figure; the promise of one love and end of days. Who else could have sown, then seeded, this divide? Who else left this shadowy thumb print between my eyes? . Copyright © 2020 M. B. McLatchey. All rights reserved. Published in Iris Literary Journal .

Published Poetry Translations: Title Portuguese Journal Author 1 LITTLE BY LITTLE A POUCO E POUCO Ezra Maria Teresa Horta 2 THE LEAVES AS FOLHAS Ezra Maria Teresa Horta 3 THE HAND AND THE WRITING A MÃO E A ESCRITA Ezra Maria Teresa Horta 4 POEM POEMA Springhouse Maria Teresa Horta 5 FROM THE BEGINNING AB INITIO Springhouse Maria Teresa Horta 6 ANTICIPATION ESPERA Springhouse Maria Teresa Horta 7 IDEALIZATION IDEALIZAÇÃO Springhouse Maria Teresa Horta 8 FROM MUTINY TO MUTINY DE MOTIM EM MOTIM Metamorphoses Maria Teresa Horta 9 DELIRIUMS DELÍRIOS Metamorphoses Maria Teresa Horta 10 FURTIVE STEPS TRAÇOS FURTIVOS Metamorphoses Maria Teresa Horta 11 POEM AFTER POEM POEMA A POEMA Metamorphoses Maria Teresa Horta 12 FROM LIBERTY TO LIBERTY DE LIBERDADE EM LIBERDADE Inventory Maria Teresa Horta 13 GREED AVIDEZ Inventory Maria Teresa Horta 14 MY SUSTENANCE MEU ALIMENTO Inventory Maria Teresa Horta 16 THE CONDITION OF THE VERSES DA CONDIÇÃO DOS VERSOS Alchemy Maria Teresa Horta 17 VERSES VERSOS SWWIM Maria Teresa Horta

AWP Interview with M.B. McLatchey Can Writing Be Taught? I have no doubt that writing can be taught—but here the burden of responsibility falls mostly on the teacher, not the writer. By this I mean that writing must be taught in a way that emphasizes discovery and growth of the student-writer’s voice, rather than emphasizing adaptation of a writer’s voice to a history of literature or to current trends in literature. I believe that this is the best way to foster originality and freshness in young and so-called “emerging writers.” M.B. - July, 2017 Excerpted from her Full Interview with AWP.

Index Previous Next 2008 Muriel Craft Bailey Memorial Award - Special Merit The Rescue People use the word 'closure.' It's not about closure, it's more about justice. ― John Walsh, father to Adam Walsh. Today in the news: Miraculous Rescue An uncle drags a shark to shore to save his near-dead nephew. A bull of a shark, the arm that it tore from the boy when he waved for help fueled the beast's palate; its tail in the uncle's grip, a blur of blood claret and kelp; the husks from his palms, a grim and edible kale. I want a shark that I can wrestle and make it spit you out. To make it yearn for its strength, to thrash about as I nestle its nose in my grip. I want to turn you loose from a palpable place: a well, a shed, a jaw. I want the monster to face me and beg for the law. . Copyright © 2007 M. B. McLatchey. All rights reserved. Muriel Craft Bailey Memorial Award - Special Merit. Published in The Comstock Review , January 2008.

Index Previous Next Ctrl+Z A shortcut to undo ; and so the hateful words we say, hateful because we have not loved someone so much before – can be reversed, undone, erased. A dream come true: No evidence. No blowgun residue. No shadowy pin-print in the chest, where the pointed tip pierced through. No plaintive call to cauterize the wound. No sky gods cheering for a second act. Nature reversed: No crawling back, no silken trail, no bouquets of fattened leaves in new host trees with larval tents; branches where we will leave our scent and later, feed. Limbs in silk sleeves like spring in a dying season, as if to ornament the kill. As if, behind the screen, like lotuses, merciless words did not fix their roots in swampy waters, undisturbed. . Copyright © 2021 M. B. McLatchey. All rights reserved. Published in The Florida Review

Selected Poems of Maria Teresa Horta Translated by: M.B. McLatchey and Edite Cunhã Forthcoming in Inventory , 2020 Prev 13 Next GREED I submit to my greed along the trail of voices and the footprints of books that disrupt my peace I learn each word down to the stem of the rhyme taking pleasure from the hem of my writing skirt in the vertigo of poetry adjusting the verse to the danger Epic and homeless AVIDEZ Eu sigo a minha avidez pelo caminho das vozes e as pegadas dos livros a tirarem o sossego Cada palavra aprendida até à haste da rima tomando o gosto à bainha da saia da minha escrita na vertigem da poesia ajustando o verso ao perigo Epopeia e desabrigo Copyright © 2019 M. B. McLatchey & Edite Cunha, with permission. All rights reserved. Forthcoming in Inventory , Princeton University, 2020. Copyright © 2017 Maria Teresa Horta, from her collection Poesis . Dom Quixote Publisher, Lisbon. Back to List

BOOKS More Info Smiling at the Executioner Kelsay Books, November 2023 Smiling at the Executioner is a brilliant collection of poems inspired by the Stoic philosophy, but don’t let that stop you from enjoying these poems, which know how to live on their own, to take root in your heart. These are the kind of poems you hope you can remember to quote when in moments of uncertainty . McLatchey is not some one-trick theme artist who will sing you “I get knocked down, but I get up again”—NO!—she’s the one who will serve you images, sounds, and textures that make you want to read this book aloud. She will bring you the taste of bread, the promises of olives, the singing of hunger, and the love of desire. —J.P. Dancing Bear , editor of Verse Daily Order Order Video More Info Beginner's Mi nd From Shipyard to Harvard Yard: Embracing Endless Possibilities Winner of the Penelope Niven Creative Nonfiction Award "Would the bad children please raise their hands?" Discover why that statement and so many more will have you either smiling or crying as we examine the question, "How do we want teachers to teach, inspire, and guide our children?" Told through the eyes of a very observant ten-year-old, Beginner's Mind is the how-to book we have been waiting for – a book that describes teaching the way we so passionately want it for our children. For parents of young children, their teachers, homeschooling parents, teachers in training, and all adults interested in understanding the loving way that children can blossom in school while discovering their endless possibilities, this book is a must read. " Rippling with wisdom and creative genius. " Readers' Favorite 5-Stars "Read this book and re-open your mind." - Robert Fleck, PhD, Emeritus Professor of Physics & Astronomy "Anyone who has been influenced by a beloved teacher will savor this work; educators will especially appreciate it." - Library Journal A "fourth grade teacher that many readers will wish they’d had"! - Kirkus More Info Order The Lame God It is a hard fact that, to the artist, everything is material. We grit our teeth and use even the most personal catastrophes—our own and those of others—to make art. This is what the Classical authors did, and this is what M. B. McLatchey has done with her great subject in this book. The effect is powerful, and ultimately, The Lame God proves that if our traumatic experiences don’t destroy us, they can produce masterful works, in which human nature rises to its heights. — From the foreword by Edward Field, American poet and essayist, and judge for the 2013 May Swenson Award Winner of the 2013 May Swenson Award More Info Order Great Works of Ancient Greece From the Heroic to the Classical Age Against a backdrop of economic strife, political unrest and relentless war with neighboring regions, the ancient Greeks give the world philosophy – a preoccupation, as Socrates says, not with simply living, but with living well. As the readings in this text will demonstrate – from the ancient epics of the Warrior Age of heroes to the teachings of the great thinkers in the Golden Age of Athens – living well for the ancient Greeks will mean answering the same question again and again: “What should we call a good life?” For introductory-level students in the Humanities, as for the most accomplished scholars, this is a question for all of us. More Info Order Primary Sources G reat Works of Ancient Greece, the Roman Empire and Middle Ages As a supplement to the wide variety of textbooks that students use in their Humanities courses, this collection of primary sources exposes readers to the original voices of the past. Primary Sources is a compilation of the most representative works from the Ancient Period through the Middle Ages, with annotations and introductions throughout to assist the reader. Significant readings from the modern era are also included to encourage the student to examine connections between ancient and modern ideas as well as discover the larger social and political questions that have defined Western civilization. More Info Order Advantages of Believing The verses in this collection chronicle an earlier time in the author’s life as well as an earlier – and in some ways, foundational – poetic. A poetic, as E.E. Cummings suggests, that is more a way of seeing things than saying things. While the settings for the poems shift between continents – America, England, and France – the perspective, the way of seeing things, is undeniably that of the foreigner, the tourist, the disoriented – and yet somehow stewarded – young scholar. 2014 FLP Open Chapbook Prize Winner - Finishing Line Press