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.
Oh friends I am a prison to all that lies within me.
It burns the way phosphorus burns. It bears the raven’s flag
into the ragged country called by its natives Los Arpas.
The moon dragged her string-net bag of shadows through the boughs
My long shadow paces and the skreak of gulls
hauls evening down and furls it along the edge of the lake.
They are the colors/of my dead father’s Lenten chasuble,
and I think of our friend Greg.
She reconstructs her ruptured orange peel
while telling me about the fancy meal
It’s come unlatched, the sloppy silk fist
unhinging like a jaw as if
to swallow something bigger than itself—
During a time of great need
we came easily
under the influence of light–
Along the coast of perpetual breezes
I lay myself down. Half-light slowly
all the way, like the lid of the earth twisted off.
Full contentment may be possible
You’ll be among the first
to know. You will. You’ll see:
waddling like an emperor’s obesity
ahead of you, sunrise, the future.