The Picnic
He took her by the hand and led her to the top of the hill.
poetry
A Taxi Driver Tells Me Johnny Weissmuller Died at Home in Acapulco Nine Years Ago
I sit in the sun
A Final Prayer for Allen Ginsberg
I hold palm up in my hand
She Will Not Have It
The widow next door walks
August Shore
Who were you when you left
Eels
Pourings of water,
Weasel
This streaming across open ground,
Geese
Suddenly there was a white presence
View from Flinders
Leaning over the shore in mist
Gargoyle Villanelle
How long can he hang here, are they drawing lots?
Pages
Current Issue: No. 301
