The Plunge
Underneath muscles bloodrich and woven
poetry
From 'Dolphins Are People'
Under our heels shreds of fingerbones
Poem
Desire
Poem Poem
Yesterday a bust of breath
Burial Ground
Marked only by the roots of trees,
Elegy for Richard
Son,
Three Poems
I have seen flowers growing
The Church and the Queens
The Church is as kept woman taught to sin
September
Four of us climbed the hill
Fish There Are
Fish there are born blind
Pages
Current Issue: No. 301
