She Replies to His Pleas
To be possessed, not owned
poetry
Match Point
'Sixteen All.' (Seventeen's the game.)
Compass Reading (At an Exhibition)
My friend (the White Rabbit)
The Martyrs
The sexes walking, now separate and sore,
Of Creatures the Net
Of creatures the net and chain
The Journey
Quick, find me, or for ever miss,
Children of the Sun
Light falls upon them and they see the form
Beaver Pond
Not furred nor wet, the pointing words yet make
The Strawberry Bed: a Paradox
Epitaph: Here lies a good wife, gentle and kind,
Caught Fish
After hoocked and reeled in
Pages
Current Issue: No. 301
