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Poems
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The Poets and Translators Speak
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A FLOW STONE IN CO. CLARE
You want to fathom me,
Daniel Tobin
THE BEAR IN THE WHEELCHAIR
The bedside window is cracked a little, for fresh air presumably, and a lopsided venetian blind bangs softly in a
Michael Van Walleghen
Derealization
I left my body in Barnes & Noble
Julie Heming
The Beautiful American Word Baby
Once, I wanted it growled low in the throat
Susan Aizenberg
A Lean-to at the End of the Galaxy
You fire a fiction deep into my brain
Jonathan Weinert
Sources And Outcomes & Through The Hospital Corridor
Too many moons crossing in solitude
Dennis Sampson
In which I am confronted by a superhero
I’m hitting fast forward to skip the gruesome bits of an Icelandic mystery
Olya Kenney
The Oklahoma Purchase
William Howard Taft wouldn’t drink before dark.
Brian Henry
On Being Mused Upon
Reading his poems, you recognize yourself
Carol Moldaw
For Night to Fall
You could tell from the start that the best
Carl Phillips
Morning Hunger
Why not in the icy clarity of morning,
Stewart Moss
Of Weeping
First there is the weeping one weeps when one reads a good poem,
Daniel Bosch
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