Flour, Eggs, Milk, Baking Powder, Salt and God O Best Beloved, tell me, if you know, why— the world over—when that woman bending toward the griddle, toward heat pushing through the a.m. chill, turns up a soft brown impression of
NIGHT COMMUNION We met at the revolving hotel door. You’d shaved three weeks of growth while I had three glasses of wine in the lounge—I was too early, I’d gone and come back. You’re late, you said. I touched your
THREE POEMS Bruce Smith I hitchhiked through Harrisburg once: night and some light dislocating, deranging the river and a highway which was a country road or an artifact of a market or a Cornell box and I got picked up
REMEMBERING RAY – AUG. 2,1998 – FOR TESS The invitation reads: “Please come together with friends of Raymond Carver and Tess Gallagher for a graveside remembrance marking the tenth anniversary of his death.” He calls to say he cannot come.
This month’s Featured Selection marks a return to our usual format of selected poems, this time from the remarkable David Clewell, with an introduction from Associate Editor for Special Projects, Nancy Mitchell. After that lollapalooza of an interview, there are