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Poems
Contributors
Authors
Translators
Archive
Plume Issues
The Poets and Translators Speak
Featured Selection
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Interviews
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Station To Station
Anthologies
About
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Early Elegy: Telephone Booth | Early Elegy: Cursive
Its remains: a plexiglass crypt robbed
Claudia Emerson
Mantra Post- Storm Desmond
After thirty-six hours indoors while Desmond
John Kinsella
Drinking, Failure and Erotics
Easing from fixed to felt, mellow waves of breeze, the lean
Paula Bohince
Phone Call: Lesson in Style and The Story of Civilization
“Everything feels all swollen and puffy, like my brain
Tom Sleigh
Birds There is No Moon
Birds there is no moon
Dorothea Lasky
Circus
How the squirrel, skittish, leaps, lobbing its orange
Mark Irwin
The Morgue is Closed & Pélican Dans Sa Píeté
Any décor depresses when it shows
Martha Serpas
George Orwell Sucks
How can a word evocative of so much pleasure,. both adult and infantile, find itself used – by almost everybody – in
Stephen Dunn
Letters from Earth & Sky
The petals
Marilyn Kallet
The Movie My Murderer Makes
My murderer sits in row F, seat 3, just behind my wife and me, in row E, seats 3 and 4.
Chris Shipman
Blond for All the Boys
Frank Ocean didn’t mean anything to me till Dave said check
Matthew Lippman
Storm Song, Monarch, Sultry Night and Galveston, 1900
Last night heat
Joseph Campana
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