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Plait
When I first knotted my hair against the coming of winter, I had grown tired of playing jacks and didn’t yet find boys
Carrie Etter
Hagstrom
I examine my scarred torso
Neil Silberblatt
KINDNESS DETECTOR | TRUTH IN ADVERTISING
It looks like a bamboo flute, but has a motor that draws air across a copper plate treated with chemicals which,
Charles Harper Webb
A Hole in My Backyard
I get very nervous, I admit.
John Wall Barger
Dear Creature
Because of what I did
Jessica Cuello
Beautiful Worry
this wan light, spaghetti-thin, uneases
Deborah Gorlin
On Friendship, Haiku, Lust, and Blame
Eye of hurricane,
David Lehman
Three poems translated from the Polish by Piotr Florczyk
At night we stood together on guard,
Anna Świrszczyńska
THINNING THE SPRUCES
I’ve become ruthless with the spruces
Jeffrey Harrison
Tchaikovsky’s Fifth, On Freud’s Birthday [May 5] & In Vienna
The first movement of Tchaikovsky’s
David Lehman
Why I Haven’t “Outgrown Surrealism,” No Matter What That Moron Reviewer Wrote
I still love the sound of breaking,
Dean Young
Owls Was The Most Likely Explanation
It’s pretty wild to think how long ago
Jeffrey Gustavson
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