The night is warm and in this city you can see the stars from the broken sidewalks and rutted tar. I stand on my wooden porch, the dirty gray paint flaky underfoot as my feet shift of their own accord; I cannot stand still. Every hair stands on end in its follicle. The slightest movement of a leaf on the ground next to me causes me to startle, intensely amazed at the ability for the breeze to pick it up and move it a half-centimeter after spiraling through the thick, end-of-summer night air as if it were nothing.
The Arvon Poetry Prize, established thirty years ago by poet and husband of Sylvia Plath Ted Hughes, is now accepting entries. Until August 16, poets
pen poem by gene defcon I cover my hands with disgusting pens It feels good to clinch and unclinch Beneath this mountain Every movement sends
Lyle Lovett, Fans Bid Paolo Soleri Farewell by Adam Perry â€œI will always remember this night,â€ Texas-born singer-songwriter Lyle Lovett said from the Paolo Soleri
Joe Citizen by jim benz He hopes to avoid Leon on his way to the elevator. Just past the open door of the fileroom, on
Family of Spain’s dead great poet Hernandez want name cleared By Anita Brooks in Madrid To literature fans, Miguel Hernandez was one of Spain’s greatest
Gee, You’re So Beautiful Its Starting To Rain recited by Brautigan himself. Someone made this video for the reading. Pretty interesting.
The Station Agent By ELVIS MITCHELL In ”The Station Agent” a man named Fin settles into a remote outpost — a rundown train depot in
Privacy: The New Cuckold by dr p fenderson In the one pale beam cast across cracked and lonely planks, still tender from the touch of
Last week, the new editor of The Paris Review, Lorin Stein, told The Observer that he and his recently installed poetry editor, Robyn Creswell, were