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Index
View From a Shrinking Floe
Beyond the boats freed from the dripping ice
Billy Collins
Three Poems
My fingers grow white with winter, blood
Traci Brimhall
Two poems by Tomasz Różycki translated from Polish by Mira Rosenthal
Hello? If you can hear me, give a sign, a call,
Tomasz Różycki
A Brief Portfolio
Our first time at the Sistine Chapel, prior to the restoration, the colors were dulled,
Bruce Cohen
Here at the Scene
How will I tell her particular tale
Robin Behn
Wooden Boards
My father carefully rolls his pant leg up, places his leg between two wide boards. He tells my mother to jump hard on
Dzvinia Orlowsky
VISITORS
Having just arrived, we are walked down a moonless
Jennifer O’Grady
PROTECT YOUR HOME (Interpret It Well), a short film with music by Ches Smith
The composition has two movements, one slow and one fast.
Frank Heath
From The Little Book of Passage
Ecco il fiume che mi allarga lo sguardo, che mi attraversa la fronte.
Franca Mancinelli
Purge
The Aryan Jesus, in Hitler’s painting
Bruce Bond
SEND A SEARCH PARTY | FIRST SNOWFALL | A FINAL WALK WITH MY NEPHEW
My joints are full of dewy lights
Max Ritvo
After the War for Independence and Despite Nostalgia
Those boys in the basement, middle-schoolers, unruly
Gerry LaFemina
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