Angela Veronica Wong: Three Poems
When Elsa is angry she forgets about / stairs, about spiders about veins and / blood about time about coronations / about drunkenness. More
John Reed: Two Sonnets
The truth is, I only tell 13 lies. / Lie no. 2: I lie in praise of heaven. / Three: this is between just the two of us.… More
Dear Jenny, We Are All Find
and you were just A Good Guy / and that was the first time My Lips / wanted to be lips and they were / just the lips that… More
Three Poems from Empire
How might it feel to be forced to drink molten gold? / The hardening from the inside would kill you almost instantly / When the gold was poured /… More
The Ida Pingala
I told you, in the decades to come, we’d hold our hands open to feel the moist sweat of the turn-coat landscape as it spoils the way we hear… More
Nocturne Trio
I'm an oilcloth stuffed / in the back pocket of jeans / you don't wear / Brass buttons on a work-shirt. Over / exaggeration, under simplification. More
Octaves Later
Beyond / the nerve tonic / I came up rather quickly / now it’s a way of saying something / as if another century had passed More
Wide Enough
wasn’t crossing the / fence line a bird / that wasn’t perched / in the magnolia More
I Can’t Be Responsible For All That’s Behind Me
That is the mind I am talking about. / That wind that fire that way of saying / something so unlike anything as familiar / as a hand, a… More