Epitaph
The grey pallor of death
poetry
Radio
When the singing commercials
Death came, not resounding
Death came, not resounding
Poem
From this top-knotted old iron stove,
Communion
A cube of bleached, white bread
Aisles in all the world
Aisles in all the world are leading down,
Poem
These are strange fields that stare through Gothic windows,
The Cheat
The living would not do for them.
Worth It
When Icarus flew toward the sun
Noons of poppy
Noons of poppy, noons of poppy,
Pages
Current Issue: No. 301
