by Mark Doty Under Grand Central's tattered vault ——maybe half a dozen electric stars still lit—— one saxophone blew， and ...
by Denise Levertov Fully occupied with growing——that's the amaryllis. Growing especially at night： it would take only a bit more patie...
by Lesle Lewis The rain does not cool and is a sticky one to the present and the place. Is it a weakness， yours for narcotics？ The trees levitate and ...
by Allen Tate Where we went in the boat was a long bay a slingshot wide， walled in by towering stone—— Peaked margin of antiquity's de...
by Jane Kenyon I am the blossom pressed in a book， found again after two hundred years. . . . I am the maker， the lover， and the keeper. . . . When th...
by Amy Uyematsu A mere eyelid's distance between you and me. It took us a long time to discover the number zero. John's brother is afraid to g...
by John Donne Tis true， 'tis day； what though it be？ O wilt thou therefore rise from me？ Why should we rise， because 'tis light？ Did we lie do...
by Chad Davidson The burner and the blackout crave you： pilot of heat， purveyor of the innocent candle and cigarette， light we tamed then fed to the n...
by Aaron Smith With cotton candy armpits and sugary Crevices， sweat glazing your donut skin. Have you ever been fat， Brad？ Have you ever wanted a Snic...
by Eve Alexandra They are everywhere——those sunflowers with the coal heart center. They riot without speaking， huge， wet mouths caught at ...