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Poems
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Earthquake
The voices of self are ended. A sepia
Ruth Padel
The Village Crow
The village crow knew everything—
Dzvinia Orlowsky
Uplight
The uplight is where I want to be, above and looking, and looking over.
Leah Umansky
Personal Life | I, Too, Arrived Here in the End | Godard
The universe is vast and boundless
Hsia Yü
the ugly purple corpse I lug behind me | you haven’t changed a bit
the ugly purple corpse I lug behind me
Edoardo Sanguineti
BORN ON
The twelfth of July, like Neruda, wouldn’t
Stuart Friebert
A Toy Airplane
The tumor
Kevin Prufer
Pedestrian Interval
The trick in all of this is to build well--
Mark Svenvold
Two Stages
The traveler was certainly sleep-logged when he slipped away from his hotel at sunrise
Yves Bonnefoy
Threnody and Sylvia Plath
The train coach, Jean—empty except for you,
David Wojahn
Sestina
The time is naturally over. It is another morning. Lie
Leah Umansky
It’s Not Just Trains
The ticket office was closing
Lawrence Raab
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