by Sarah Manguso I am not here to ruin you. I am already in you. I am the work you don‘t do. I am what you understand best and wordless. I am wi...
by Floyd Skloot It came with the steady pace of dusk， slow shadings in the distance， a sense of light growing soft at the center of her body. It came ...
by Lola Haskins I'm crossing the river where it narrows， carefully， it being Sunday and I'm past the root end of the log when I look up， and t...
by David Baker Yesterday a little girl got slapped to death by her daddy， out of work， alcoholic， and estranged two towns down river. America， it'...
by Paul Celan （Translated by Heather McHugh and Nikolai Popov） O little root of a dream you hold me here undermined by blood， no longer visible to any...
by Mary Rose O'Reilley "Art is what remains when the pot is broken."—Chinese proverb I know we are bound to the earth，and the crac...
by Patricia Young It's so quiet now the children have decided to stop being born. We raise our cups in an empty room. In this light， the curtains ...
by John Balaban At dusk， by the irrigation ditch gurgling past backyards near the highway，locusts raise a maze of calls in cottonwoods. A Spanish girl...
by Yves Bonnefoy Translated by Hoyt Rogers Passerby， these are words. But instead of reading I want you to listen： to this frail Voice like that of le...
by Federico García Lorca （Translated by William Logan） Green， how I want you green. Green wind. Green branches. The ship out on the sea and the...