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Poems
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Archive
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When My Son Is Dead 14 Years
These are the years I bargain with God.
Alexis Rhone Fancher
ELK | RUE MOUFFETARD |
The man who said he could smell the girls ovulating
Leslie Adrienne Miller
Western Spinebill Sighting and the Absence of Tim
Tim is at a Goethe Society lesson
John Kinsella
Without Apology
Things happen. We’ve been promised
Annette Barnes
Poem to Circe IV
Ancient bronzes, we reached the sea.
José Manuel Cardona
Stopping At Whole Foods on a Snowy Evening
If commerce, too, has its music, then it’s in kumquat, pine nut, Arctic char,
Ciaran Berry
A Love Poem While Dissolving
I’m trying to say I love you, but Buckminster Fuller declared
David Wagoner
The Way Forward | Fountainebleau
Swordplay is all
Andrea Cohen
Hymn of the Squirrels, Echidna Tremens and Singled Out
Not an issue of ‘variety’, of red, brown, grey and black,
John Kinsella
EVERY MAP IS AN ISLAND
I turned away from the paper
Wayne Miller
DERRIÈRE LE MUR ANTI-BRUIT/PROMENADES EN ÎLE-DE-FRANCE by Chantal Bizzini translated by J. Bradford Anderson
Pourquoi le rez-de-chaussée
Chantal Bizzini
Armed Stasis
I will make a fact with you Robert Frost.
Charles Bernstein
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