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Lava Lakes and Petrified Forests in the Afterlife
I watched a roomful of faces exert effort to remain unrevealed
Dara Wier
Before Summer Rain
Then, out of the green of the grove,
Rainer Maria Rilke
Albatross
Driving toward
Karina Borowicz
JANUARY
This longing for him the choke in my throat again —
Laure-Anne Bosselaar
The Rosy Tones
the rosy tones
Karen Volkman
Poet at the Mall & Neuromythology
Because language begins in body
Pamela Hart
Missing
If I told you simply that the bed in the Baptist Hospital
Carl Dennis
Arcs and Oedipus Ux
No shame in appreciating
Charles O. Hartman
Two Views of Bercy
It seems that the sun has stopped and will move no more
Jacques Réda
Two poems by Krystyna Lenkowska translated from Polish by Cecilia Woloch
When I was young
Krystyna Lenkowska
Centerfold of the Year | Centerfold of the Month: Rabbit Season | Centerfold of the Month: Judgment
Full frontal I stand, knee-high socks and white heels,
Dorothy Chan
Riddle
The chair is not far from the bed
Norman Dubie
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