by Brenda Hillman Infinity lifted： a gasp of emeralds. I thought I felt the tall night trees between them， no exactitude， a wait not even known yet. I...
by Catherine Anderson She slides over the hot upholstery of her mother's car， this schoolgirl of fifteen who loves humming & swaying with the ...
by Stanley Plumly She's not angry exactly but all business， eating them right off the tree， with confidence， the kind that lets her spit out the b...
by Agi Mishol （Translated by Lisa Katz） The evening goes blind， and you are only twenty.： Nathan Alterman，Late Afternoon in the Market” You are ...
by Hayden Carruth The great poems of our elders in many tongues we struggled to comprehend who are now content with mystery simple and profound you in...
by Liz Waldner I saw that a star had broken its rope in the stables of heaven—— This homeless one will find her home in the foothills of a...
by David Lehman If Ezra Pound were alive today （and he is） he'd be teaching at a small college in the Pacific Northwest and attending the annual c...
by Jordan Davis The gnats love the highway dividers， the freelance pickup artists love the softness of the hands of the women who love their friends f...
by Edna St. Vincent Millay She is neither pink nor pale， And she never will be all mine； She learned her hands in a fairy-tale， And her mouth on a val...
by Lucille Clifton i wish them cramps. i wish them a strange town and the last tampon. I wish them no 7-11. i wish them one week early and wearing a w...