by Thylias Moss Columbo's eye， Peter Falk's indivisible from the other's vitreous dupe that he can pocket， rub into， off of， and shine the...
by Pura López-Colomé Translated by Forrest Gander This world. A sound sometimes dry， metallic， at times rubbery， has settled the morning...
by Madelon Sprengnether I lied a little. There are things I don‘t want to tell you. How lonely I am today and sick at heart. How the rain falls ...
by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow In the long， sleepless watches of the night， A gentle face——the face of one long dead—— Looks at...
by Robert W. Service There are strange things done in the midnight sun By the men who moil for gold； The Arctic trails have their secret tales That wo...
by Susan Howe For here we are here BEDHANGINGS daylight does not reach Vast depth on the wall Neophyte Alapeen Paper Patch Muslin Calico Camlet Dimity...
by James Weldon Johnson And God stepped out on space， And he looked around and said： I'm lonely—— I'll make me a world. And far as...
by Pablo Neruda Translated by William O'Daly Tell me， is the rose naked or is that her only dress？ Why do trees conceal the splendor of their root...
by Edward Lear On the Coast of Coromandel Where the early pumpkins blow， In the middle of the woods Lived the Yonghy-Bonghy-Bo. Two old chairs， and ha...
by Linda Pastan For Jews， the Cossacks are always coming. Therefore I think the sun spot on my arm is melanoma. Therefore I celebrate New Year's E...