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Poems
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Archive
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Index
Letter to a Cyclist and Early Spring
The cyclist who’s rushing for the usual gold
Guy Goffette
WINDOWS (after Baudelaire)
You never see as much in an open window as you will looking at it when it’s closed.
J.T. Barbarese
Barrage Balloons, Buck Alec, Bird Flu and You
First there is the weeping one weeps when one reads a good poem,
Paul Muldoon
Pitty-Pat
Oleander to the death of horses
Donald Revell
Morning Hunger
Why not in the icy clarity of morning,
Stewart Moss
December, First Frost
A small green house sits beside the highway, fading into maple shade.
David Bottoms
The Poets
They are farmers, really--
Linda Pastan
Movie and Two Little Miners
When I was ten they took me into a coal mine
Martha Collins
Riddle
The chair is not far from the bed
Norman Dubie
Oxygen & Waking to 1939, I Study Those Standing
I’m sorry my mother got a blood clot in her lung
Patricia Clark
Ode to Cabeza de Vaca
What good is it to see for miles and miles,
Bruce Weigl
Our Bodies Ourselves
No one would sit by Vicky Syme
Angela Sorby
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