Venice
Rocking over green, the black
poetry
Mood
I never found soft clay to turn so brittle,
A Ballad of the Death of Thomas Pepys, Tailor
A sluggish man with naught / But his trade and lease, / And a curst imperfection / In his speech,
Banyan
And the banyan tree shall let down props out of her branches,
Abandoned Farm
Trees lean sideways to shape out a clearing
A Ballad of Loving
We stripped our bodies naked
My Audubon Goose
The regal Goose which Audubon drew
The Quality of Halves
Into this dusk, a word whose vowels contain
Harvest
Pillaged by tractor and combine,
Easter
Not any more the visions and revelations
Pages
Current Issue: No. 298
