By Roger Reeves
Absent bounty, anarchic and asymptotic, / Bedlam banked as beauty, captive cuckolding / Capital and its camel-faced captor, master, the / Devil is in the dove’s details
By Leah Naomi Green
Of course they sing—/ we have given them / no other verb.
We understood it / to be suffering, its beak a little open.
More from this issue
By Dave Lucas
I would be Diogenes. Swing my lampthrough these dishonest days in search.I myself have looked the known worldover and given everything a new name.
Imagine you could learn the names of every river,each upthrust mountainand fault folded on itself:
I cannot remember the last meal I shared with my father.Only those long last nights slipping him what ice chipshe could still stomach and then swabbing his chapped lipswith a wetted pink sponge.
More Online Poetry
By Claire Schwartz
By John S. Sledge
By John Freeman