by Rafael Campo I Admitted to the hospital again. The second bout of pneumocystis back In January almost killed him； then， He'd sworn to us he'...
by Judith Harris No use going hunting for angels， for a Christ in the tree-mops， a Moses winding his way up the mount into the fire of God's fresh...
by Virgil Suárez Whenever we grew tired and bored of curb ball， of encircling the scorpions we found under rocks by the mother-in-law tongue wi...
by David Lehman Can't swim； uses credit cards and pills to combat intolerable feelings of inadequacy； Won't admit his dread of boredom， chief ...
by Andrew Marvell My Love is of a birth as rare As 'tis for object strange and high： It was begotten by Despair Upon Impossibility. Magnanimous De...
by Randall Jarrell From my mother's sleep I fell into the State， And I hunched in its belly till my wet fur froze. Six miles from earth， loosed fr...
by Mary Ruefle It was one of those mornings the earth seemed not to have had any rest at all， her face dour and unrefreshed， no particular place&mdash...
by Quincy Troupe 1. that day began with a shower of darkness， calling lightning rains home to stone language of thunderclaps， shattering， the high blu...
by Gerald Stern In all these rotten shops， in all this broken furniture and wrinkled ties and baseball trophies and coffee pots I have never seen a po...
by Norman Dubie You were never told， Mother， how old Illya was drunk That last holiday， for five days and nights He stumbled through Petersburg formin...