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Ross Taylor



Autumn 2002 | Poetry

The boy looks into the monitor and wishes it was a real window. So safe, the way it shows the approaching planet.   Below him, another boy looks out his window and wishes he could  change channels. So sad, the car that just drove away in [...]

The 1st Cut

Autumn 2002 | Poetry

"I'm sorry for the future and I'm sorry for the past" —Robyn Hitchcock & the Egyptians   Just how deep does it go, anyway? And how far back? The files are no longer indexed, but still on disk, we haven't written over them yet. Or with ev [...]

Good Idea

Dear Y    I just held Your latest book of stories and read them very much. All were about people what love may or may not or friendship and hate and competitiveness, resignation plus daily things    . . . mm-hmm   Frankly was going to attend [...]

See the Pyramids

Here's what's happening: everything. As the yews move, as the ragged cedars flutter, and the Tigris and the Rappahannock flow, here's my grandmother marketing a long way from Danzig. She's already moved to Brooklyn; here's the birdge and Mr. Whitman [...]

Derwent Water: Words Re. Tranquillity

William, how is it you forgive their litter so easily, rolling back your rain clouds from the surrounding hills like the lid of a sardine tin? Now that you are in nature do you commune with people? Have you found something in common with each group [...]