Dylan
In spite of this foul world,
Tracy Thompson
I Dream
I dreamthe regeneration of arms,
Death was General Upon the Morn
Death was general upon the morn:
The Modern World
With bugles for eyes
The White Telephone
Asked why love?
A Rich Silken Fabric
A rich silken fabric with a flowered pattern,
On Time
There will be no later. Time's subtlety is this,
Poem
We talked about old age but I have found
The Sun
Oh, Sun, your great eye
They Said
They said, 'The 18th Century'
Pages
Current Issue: No. 301
