by Jon Loomis You're seventeen and tunnel-vision drunk， swerving your father's Fairlane wagon home at 3：00 a.m. Two-lane road， all curves and ...
by Gwendolyn Brooks We real cool. We Left school. We Lurk late. We Strike straight. We Sing sin. We Thin gin. We Jazz June. We Die soon....
by Sarah Getty The deer——neck not birch trunk， eyes not leaf or shadow， comes clear from nowhere at the eye's edge. The woman's le...
by Paul Laurence Dunbar We wear the mask that grins and lies， It hides our cheeks and shades our eyes，—— This debt we pay to human guile； ...
by Mónica de la Torre Sonya's so good that all the guys pick on her， so the evening's narrative goes. I've heard she wears yellow t...
by Mark Jarman The wave breaks And I'm carried into it. This is hell， I know， Yet my father laughs， Chest-deep， proving I'm wrong. We're s...
by Sarah Gridley Besides the toss and drag of shells are you shown no proof as to time lost here？ Same stamp on every morning. Tattered glass at rub o...
by Jean Gallagher （Giovanni di Paolo， ca. 1440） Particularity evidently survives in paradise. Your own uniform， the modesty of it， still fits. Your br...
by Robin Robertson The slow-grained slide to embed the blade of the key is a sheathing， a gliding on graphite， pushing inside to find the ribs of the ...
by Kathryn Stripling Byer This， he said， giving the hickory leaf to me. Because I am poor. And he lifted my hand to his lips， kissed the fingers that ...