Because of their format, several poems that appear in the current issue are included only in pdf. To read them, click on their titles on the right side of this page.
Last night my son, celebrating his marriage,
descended with his Turkish bride from a mid-
century Bel Air to U2’s “All
I Want Is You” & danced under the stars
The unborn who never make it into this world are edible
blossoms in the orphic throat of God, garlanded by floral
seraphs. Yes, the sky-blue borage, the cilantro and fennel
and calendula, the crystallized viola and skirted zucchini,
At a party the random tumbling voices
of friends gathered from distant places
together in one room, my son weaves
through the room with wine, kissing and pouring,
In another dispensation among the old
withering codes a young American woman
walked as if she balanced a gold cage
of singing birds on a coil of her hair
