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Jardin du Poète
23-12-21 Jardin du Pote Moira Egan The gardens ancient walls are low and broken and thus (yes, even at my age) easy to scale. They say this was a garden Goethe adored. I see him sketching: helichrysum, angelica (whose name reminds him of . . . ) and focused:...
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In the Drying Shed of Souls
23-12-21 In the Drying Shed of Souls Leyman Prez Translated from the Spanish by Katherine M. Hedeen Vctor Rodrguez Nez Drips drips drips drips drips drips the cytostatic IV the veinburster cr ush ing you slowly s l o w l y while next to you someone talks abo...
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When the Other Man Asked Him Did He Pray
23-12-21 When the Other Man Asked Him Did He Pray Richard Robbins He kept driving, the storefronts a shoulder-to-shoulder forest he couldnt see around. All those miles down the boulevard, numbers counting down by twos. And the field opening where the buildin...
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Late Night Unspooling
23-12-21 Late Night Unspooling Sarah Blackman Because what comes from the body is a claim for the body. The body makes a claim on the air that surrounds it by one millimeter like flowers make a claim on their air with their outrageous color, like bees do wit...
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Mackerel
23-12-21 Mackerel Mark Roper line no sooner down than taut shadow silvering into air desperate fruit all wriggle and twitch snapped off slapped in a plastic crate fading to layers of leaves knives out guts chucked to an instant coven of gulls heads scarfed w...
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Glass Ceiling
23-12-21 Glass Ceiling T. R. Hummer Because she wanted to teach me a lesson about the natural world, my grandmother raised Her .22 riflewe were rabbit hunting, so the shotgun was at home under her blue chintz pillowand brought A quail down on the covey rise....
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What’s the Use of Myth?
23-12-21 Whats the Use of Myth? Craig Dobson Where there should be a man sown in seals skin, crowned with bone from a sea kings cave, his features inked with nymph spell, his fist round a silver cup of storm and thunder, his feet on tricks to charm an otter...
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A Stand of Cottonwood
23-12-21 A Stand of Cottonwood Carl Dennis Im glad to be here, amid these cottonwood trees, Feeling the wind from the lake on my face, Sniffing the marsh smells and lake smells As I listen to the calls of unseen shorebirds. And Im glad as well to acknowledge...
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Listening to Townes Van Zandt
23-12-21 Listening to Townes Van Zandt Christine Gosnay We are of one mind and too much has not been said about all the quiet afternoons childhood offered us, lit gray like a cat, or blue, and cursed with an early moon. When father wore an apron or crept lik...
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After Dürer
23-12-21 After Drer Emily Fragos As when icy illness ends that you never expected Could possibly end, and the terrified body, enveloped In warm water, reposes, you could kiss every child on the hand, Every leaf in the forest, every stone of the wall. A low m...
