Somnolent Nonchalance by Dan Scarry Apologized between two tirednesses, Plucked of the over-ripened day; Give the world an owl – We’re sleeping.
Cricket by Brandon S. Roy 1 The letters in blood the verses in apple blonde the fences with vines of words from children selected words
Evening by Lizzie Gibbons We only look for tomorrow. Â Sharp sounds give us the time. Â Inside and outside all at once. Â Gray buildings give off
Pablo Neruda, who won the Nobel Prize for Literature in 1971, may have been poisoned, an associate maintains. A Chilean judge has opened an investigation
None of this Sounds Quite Right by Aida Raphael This is the third poem I’ve written today. That isn’t true. This one isn’t written yet.
The Dance of a Wasp by Jim Davis around the body of another wasp. He cried hard then slept. When he woke there was one
gold brick wall blood shell smashed by Billy Cancel gold brick wall blood shell smashed was what the night demanded from then on were droplets
Edwin Honig, a poet, critic and translator known for his elegant English renditions of seminal works of Spanish and Portuguese literature, died on May 25
Old Shreve by Gene Defcon Young hobos are dangerously ignorant Of common-law East-Texas train terminology – Such as “Old Shreve” – For the 10:45 out
Scraping Blackboards in a World Without Love and/or: Short Waves in the City of Light, Scraping Concrete, Dancing on Myth, Swallowing Up All the Mercury