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THE BEAR IN THE WHEELCHAIR
The bedside window is cracked a little, for fresh air presumably, and a lopsided venetian blind bangs softly in a
Michael Van Walleghen
Regret
Later in life, we enter the neighborhood
Anton Yakovlev
LATE
The last time my father returned from work
Floyd Skloot
Arrow Boy
They see her as a genie in a pager.
Martha Serpas
The All-Overs, This is Where God Stays When He’s in Town and Mr. Jackson’s Killer
I like words like gallimaufry, tawdry, billingsgate—braggadocio! Rodomontade.
David Kirby
Hotline
The calls came in around the clock. A nunnery in Nova Scotia with a broken clavichord.
Brian Barker
Puritan Watc, Yonder and Birthday
Longitude was the great mystery
Lisa Russ Spaar
Quickies in Widowhood with three instances of laughter (one not narrated), two instances of crying
Amid the whiteness of cheeses, corn puffs,
Daisy Fried
Nesting & a triptych
At my parents’ house nothing is in boxes, nothing is packed.
Katie Moritz
Elegy for Jane
Blue cab grapes clustered on trellis
Carol Muske-Dukes
In the Mud Marks Reveal
another story:
Sophie Cabot Black
No use
On October 21, 1962, Sylvia Plath wrote one poem that became two.
Kathleen Ossip
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