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Poems
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Archive
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The Poets and Translators Speak
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Station To Station
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Index
A Brief Portfolio
Look, there’s Mom with a cup of flour and a cup of time, staring into her blue bowl.
Mark Irwin
Ophthalmology
No me miras, she said, hiding her face,
Rafael Campo
First Words
In the marriage booth at sleep-away camp,
Rebecca Michels
Cosmology
Someone has spilled the moon
Linda Pastan
After the War for Independence and Despite Nostalgia
Those boys in the basement, middle-schoolers, unruly
Gerry LaFemina
We Lay Our Fear in a Wicker Basket
Too drunk, walking around
Aaron Coleman
Little Night Owl
For hours I’d lug her on my shoulder,
David Bottoms
Poem to Circe IV
Ancient bronzes, we reached the sea.
José Manuel Cardona
Last Poem
Reader, today
Simon Armintage
Letter From The Capital
She writes: now we have wars between historical eras. We fight in time as well as space. 1914 vs. 1939 is a devastating
D. Nurkse
Potato | The Surface
I do not want to finish my potato,
Martha Rhodes
Indian River at Dusk
The first and only time I caught a sheephead
Tara Skurtu
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