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Sullen Art
Someone will write a poem called Charlottesville,
Kim Addonizio
Weather Report
These white stripes of day achieve
Grace Cavalieri
Ready to Be the Lover She Remembers Forever
The gods are everywhere
Hsia Yü
Fresco
We stayed in a monastery cut up into condos, ours with a terrace of dried-up papery roses overlooking Fiesole.
Idris Anderson
Thanksgiving Near Cape Coast & Pine Cones: April 2020
Churning along through viscous mud,
Rachel Hadas
CREATION MYTH
We never expected this. Shapes
Danielle Blau
The Definition of Postmodernism & If
I was in David Lehman’s Modern Poetry class when I first heard the term “postmodernism.”
Nin Andrews
Paper
Damned if I’ll be the woman who collects mass produced throw pillows counts her
Jane Springer
Nesting & a triptych
At my parents’ house nothing is in boxes, nothing is packed.
Katie Moritz
Ars Polis
way too human too fast way too boring too quick
Andrei Codrescu
NOT ALL SKELETONS ARE MUSEUM QUALITY
Under a sky as hazy-blue-polluted
Jay Hopler
Abend in Skåne | Du, Nachbar Gott | Wie der Wächter
The park is high. As from a house
Rainer Maria Rilke
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