by David Woo Yellow-oatmeal flowers of the windmill palms like brains lashed to fans- even they think of cool paradise， Not this sterile air-condition...
by Michael Palmer Who is to say that the House of Tongues is not that place where rats swarm around your feet under blooming sofas is not that place o...
by Brian Teare "As his unlikeness fitted mine"- so his luciferous kiss， ecliptic ： me pinned beneath lips bitten as under weight of prayer， ...
by Randall JarrellIf， in an odd angle of the hutment，A puppy laps the water from a canOf flowers， and the drunk sergeant shavingWhistles O Paradiso！&m...
by Suzanne Rancourt I can remember my father bringing home spruce gum. He worked in the woods and filled his pockets with golden chunks of pitch. For ...
by Lawrence Raab Because so much consequential thinking happens in the rain. A steady mist to recall departures， a bitter downpour for betrayal. As if...
by Martha Ronk Why knowing is a quality out of fashion and no one can decide to but slips into it or ends up with a painting one has never seen that q...
by Michael Palmer It is scribbled along the body Impossible even to say a word An alphabet has been stored beneath the ground It is a practice alphabe...
by Christopher Bursk Because one day I grew so bored with Lucretius， I fell in love with the one object that seemed to be stationary， the sleeping kid...
by Derick Burleson The Kinyarwandan word which means both yesterday and tomorrow World resolves itself in crowded crane's liquid eye， in the cry o...