Poetry
… she with her shiny hair, her violin case? One day you would die but it was so far away time itself would be different by … years go by just faster and it gets harder not easier to die so you practice: climb the blue and unremembered hills, … designer’s soft white bed eating a pistache macaron when we die gloved in earth we’ll wonder why we ever felt aswim in …
Poetry
… over the backyard’s topography, lunar with moles, the false hills that give way to the craters of their homes. I … either calmed or petrified. I must have sounded like death come singing. Billy pried apart the wire and gently fed the … to Billy while we smoked out front on the porch, trying to come down from the bunny business. Suddenly, shots slurred …
Poetry
… Seeing the Body She died & I— In the spring of her blood. I remember my mother’s first injury. The surprise of unborn petals curling light, red, around her wrist. Some fruit she …
Poetry
… That any light should burn So fiercely and so long Or even come so far We see it there at all, A coldly twinkling star. … is the light we want, And light we mean to get, Whether it comes and goes Or has not reached us yet. Some of the light that burns, So science says, comes through So far from outer space, That what we think …
Poetry
… the moral, at the punch line, at the tender woman who would die of tenderness. Like a preacher spelling out the lesson …
Poetry
… By late 2004, he seemed poised for a breakthrough. His upcoming line-up included: a second book by New England Review … that Zoo had gone completely out of business, the press’s website continues to offer updated information on upcoming … measure of posting an open letter on the Kenyon Review website, informing their readers that Priscilla Sneff’s …