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Poems
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Archive
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The Poets and Translators Speak
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The Fortieth Day | Pussy Riot/Want/Don’t/Want
Now she called forth nights of a different kind of brilliance when the moon wrapped every thing with light—
Dzvinia Orlowsky
I Watch My Neighbor Watch Porn Movies through The Kitchen Window & Moonflaw
while I wash the dishes, the back of his head propped
Dorianne Laux
To Isabella Franconati
After your husband died and the cypress trees,
Michael Collier
The Drowned and the Saved
If all of us were to try to kill ourselves at least once, then all of us would know nothing more than that: which is why
Tom Sleigh
Elephant Memory
A cold sunny morning in Cambridge. Pragmatical
Gail Mazur
The Age of the Onion
The onion is a Book of Revelations, diced to proverb-size.
David Keplinger
Halloween
It is as quiet as the death of the dead no one knows
Hugo Claus
ALCHEMICAL MEDITATION
It abides in secret on my pencil tip—
Daniel Tobin
Polaris Mall
February, 9:37 p.m. Two Canada geese,
J. Allyn Rosser
Sister Dementia Remembers & Phone Booth
Enough of bosom, ass, and pillow—
Nancy Mitchell
DEATH MARCH
Carry her the way it has to hurt:
Terese Svoboda
SCENE FROM A PHOTOGRAPH IN A DREAM
What was I doing in my childhood room again?
Jeffrey Harrison
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