by Mónica de la Torre Not to search for meaning， but to reedify a gesture， an intent. As a translator， one grows attached to originals. Seldom ...
by Elaine Equi When a poem speaks by itself，it has a spark and can be considered part of a divine conversation. Sometimes the poem weaves like a baske...
by William Stafford We were alone one night on a long road in Montana. This was in winter， a big night， far to the stars. We had hitched， my wife and ...
by Brian Blanchfield Careful， a night set on edge the European tradition of virtuoso and the raw desire to articulate. I pushed them both backward on ...
by Mark Cox Because my son saw the round hay bales—— 1200 pounds apiece， shrink-wrapped in white plastic—— lining the fields， ...
by Jack Kerouac One flower on the cliffside Nodding at the canyon...
by Erik Campbell Papua， Indonesia In this mining town in Papua the electricity Has a habit of giving up at night， and this Is a miracle of modern stas...
by W. S. Merwin If I had not met the red-haired boy whose father had broken a leg parachuting into Provence to join the resistance in the final stage ...
by Pattiann Rogers Those are my bones rifted and curled， knees to chin， among the rocks on the beach， my hands splayed beneath my skull in the mud. Th...
by Nicholas Johnson I'm one of the monkeys they've got typing in a room full of monkeys. It's a play Shakespeare wrote back in the old day...