Bloom
For one week in late June, the ocean full.
poetry
Striking Distance
Beak resting like a sickle
You said I should write more love poems and
I said, I'm sorry, but I've been thinking about
Even Gershwin
Even Gershwin in his run of rhapsody
My daughter imitates A.Y. Jackson's "Road to Baie St. Paul"
The life locked in pastoral: Ramshackle barns the colour of varnish,
Angelic Salutation
Out of ether halothane and drugged-down brain-sate they gave me q.i.d,
This being the Case
One can not pray for a free thing;
the Statue
"The eyes of a living man, but wonderfully silent"--
Reading on Mars
Far from this reading room of steel, glass and chrome
Logged
they say
Pages
Current Issue: No. 302
