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Antonio Gamoneda, from Book of the Cold (World Poetry Books, May 2022) translated from Spanish by Katherine M. Hedeen and Víctor Rodríguez Núñez
You smell the wet linens, your acids.
Antonio Gamoneda
The Poets
They are farmers, really--
Linda Pastan
Pentimento
Meet me by the shadows & ponds of light where
Heidi Seaborn
Monk’s Eye, #20
Of all rhythms he found day and night
Cees Nooteboom
The Path of Non-Attachment
Andrew totaled my car, leveled the house,
Tanya Grae
Little Night Owl
For hours I’d lug her on my shoulder,
David Bottoms
Two poems by Katja Gorečan (from The Sufferings of Young Hana /Trpljenje mlade Hane) translated from Slovenian by Martha Kosir
hana likes to sit on the balcony when it rains.
Katja Gorečan
Home
Those last days in Hollywood—
Dana Goodyear
Eating the Madeleine
I remember the scut of it:
Jan Freeman
From a Bench at MOMA
Don’t wanna, don’t wanna,
Clare Rossini
Quickies in Widowhood with three instances of laughter (one not narrated), two instances of crying
Amid the whiteness of cheeses, corn puffs,
Daisy Fried
Human Condition
The human condition isn’t some grinning
J.T. Barbarese
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