by Tracy K. Smith 1. The earth is dry and they live wanting. Each with a small reservoir Of furious music heavy in the throat. They drag it out and wi...
by Noelle Kocot Someone inside says， "Get busy." But I've got appointments to keep， I have an abstemious love of equations calculated qu...
by Doreen Gildroy Be kind to me， a mess. I represent persistence——in the dirty thing； things larger than me I do not fear. Whatever you th...
by Donald Hall when my father had been dead a week I woke with his voice in my ear I sat up in bed and held my breath and stared at the pale closed do...
by Marilyn Nelson Thank you for these tiny particles of ocean salt， pearl-necklace viruses， winged protozoans： for the infinite， intricate shapes of s...
by Jane Kenyon For Caroline Christ has been done to death in the cold reaches of northern Europe a thousand thousand times. Suddenly bread and cheese ...
by Allen Grossman The Bus stops uptown next to the John Deere. The step from the paving into the bus is high. How did Irene get on the bus？ This is a ...
by Kathleen Peirce Then there was beauty in what clung， vertical and multiple against a damp tombstone where no one goes， or has gone forever， the sto...
by John Balaban Hadn't seen Eddie for some time， wheeling his chair through traffic， skinny legs in shorts， T-shirted， down at the corner off Dixi...
by John Montague The light， tarred skin of the currach rides and receives the current， rolls and responds to the harsh sea swell. Inside the wooden ri...