For Fred Cogswell
When I see you lying in bed,
poetry
Earth, I Have Always Made My Prayer
Earth, I have always made my prayer
The Legs of Language
Here the legs of language are broken
we sleep not yet drowning
mostlee on th horizon stretches
Jon at Mirror
Black night, black paper -
Corbies
Once more, grey light
Smoke
The unspeakable shock - not theirs but mine -
Domestication: A Fable
Friday night, at a bar on the outskirts of town,
Quiet
The sky a deadbolt slid firmly
Humidity
She shivers awake - that smash on the corner,
Pages
Current Issue: No. 301
