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Four Poems by Jamaal May
To the mop, galvanized bucket, / sawdust, and push broom—the felled / tree it was cut from, dulled saw, blistered hand, // I offer my apologies. To the road.… More
Elegy with Crop-Duster
a great big nothingness happening / from field to canal / from canal to the fields beyond // power lines criss-crossing the formlessness of grief . . . The… More
Um Girassol da Cor do Seu Cabelo
Sometimes you have to stare a hundred times before an image sticks, before you understand half of what’s hidden there, still living, behind the snapshot. Uncle Pedro used to… More
A Song Called Shudder
Whose passions but your own startled you / yelling up to a window at night / for a love to come to the glass / & down the stairs?… More
Four Poems by Brian Blanchfield
A second bird somewhere he said undid the doom, / but I never saw either. On we walked. Women feel / intimate face to face. Men, shoulder to shoulder,… More
Letter to My Grandnephew
I have an Arabic language CD but no CD player. I wish my sister Alyssa didn’t have cancer. Today when I was working on my math I had trouble… More
Four Poems by Marc Rahe
I am a caretaker; / I worry from afar. // I worry a sore. // Where / do you go, after? // Between privacies is the dark / of… More
from A is for Addis
When I tell people about my impending trip, I try to avoid the word “Africa,” though I can’t explain why. I am struck by the timidity, the lack of… More
From Vivarium
Do I have another charge on earth? // Who else sees these pine limbs downed by lightning / branches quaking in thunder / needles thick on the forest floor?… More
James Joyce: Past Imperfect (1800-1882)
Consequently for him, as time went by, the past was more immediate than the present, and became the chosen playground of his fiction. More
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