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Petrarch’s Poem 269, from Rerum vulgarium fragmenta, translated from Italian by Lee Harlin Bahan
The high column and the green laurel
Francesco Petrarca
My Fjord | Someone Else’s Someone Else
I will sail through my own fjord and I will name the fjord My Fjord.
Lee Upton
The Birthday Ceremony
Seventeen rooms of long maroon
Cynthia Cruz
Some Answers
No, I will not change.
Martha Silano
The Park from Above
What scared them? Scores of wild green parrots
Chase Twichell
FREE VERSE
Small woods upon an incline
Donald Revell
My Lovely Garonne
Because every tenth poem or so the poet described
Jessica Greenbaum
Coattails
When I was eighteen, I wanted to write a screenplay based on my father’s life: from his birth in poverty, how his family gathered around one scant meal a day of potatoes and onions
Henry Israeli
MASEFIELD IN PURGATORY | YOUR BROTHER’S FACE
Falls and stays flemished,
Susan Howe Elizabeth
Cold Front Coming
A crescent moon
Mary Spalding
What’s Real? | Is Nothing Sacred Anymore?
This question didn’t much interest me
David Huddle
Five Orgasms after reading Lydia Davis
You are sleeping beside me, but I can’t sleep, not in this roadside hotel smelling of new carpet and cigarettes. It’s late.
Nin Andrews
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