Poetry

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.

Jeffrey Harrison

was alive: small creatures aglow and crawling
one after the other down each tall green blade—
thousands of them bending at all angles—

Nicholas Friedman

You hunker underneath a shaggy fir,
shifting when sunlight shifts its bit of shade,
and eat a single almond every hour.

Christina Pugh

The bank of cloud that night was like a smoother
lamb’s wool, a fistful you’d pull to stuff
a pointe shoe for ballet class.  Or maybe the cloud
bank was more like the tiny cotton coverlet

Christina Pugh

A white jar dissolves into the whitish background
that gently presses its narrow form upright.  Morandi’s
ceramics must be manna for the eye, I think.  Here,
their proximity makes several forms seem melded—

Daniel Bourne

After a while the bird starts to twist
to turn this way and that
as if to show me every side

Ann Keniston

Now that my mother, as others say, has passed,
I like to visit churches that display

the miraculously intact bodies of saints
in glass cases. Sometimes the hem of their carved garment

John Skoyles

The striped shirt drying
on the patio chair—
you can say he wore
that shirt,

Laura Marris

when a man has selected himself to live longest of all

there will still be a fleet of Cadillacs to come for him in the night
self-driving from their garage

Arthur Vogelsang

It is difficult reading today
Or doing my volunteer work at the hospital or reading.
Do you have anything unbelievable that you have read twice?

Elisabeth Murawski

Pink Jackie’s back in the car.
The shot, the slump, the gore.