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Poems
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Archive
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The Poets and Translators Speak
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Interviews
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Station To Station
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About
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Four Square and Enthralled
Mornings I’m grateful to my nightly self
Charles O. Hartman
Dentist, Mexico, 1959
The room was big, not small.
Alberto Rios
Valediction in Guatemala
We say goodbye in front
Susan Fuchtman
On the Grounds of the Zendo
The face of the Buddha’s so smooth, she whispered,
Dick Allen
I Can’t Tell If the Light Is Whispering “Loss” in My Ear or Imprinting Darkness on My Body
At the last house,
Chris Vasantkumar
Agreeable Subjects
When a past father of mine makes an appearance
Carolina Hotchandani
Objects in Mirror Are Larger than They Appear
That beautiful girl on a bicycle smoking a cigarette:
Frannie Lindsay
Rune
Not timber or bronze or iridium, not the old habits of species at a waterhole or the short
Maxine Chernoff
Movie and Two Little Miners
When I was ten they took me into a coal mine
Martha Collins
On Chanukah
Isn’t fire itself
Linda Pastan
NIGHT COMMUNION
We met at the revolving hotel door. You’d shaved
Tara Skurtu
from The Violet Blood of the Amethyst
An exceptionally unhappy heart.
Louis Calaferte
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