Rationalization
I couldn't really touch her cheek -
poetry
A sumac poem
Hock-deep in crust
Broken, but not remade
Within the chill cathedral of his mind
Roads
It was the night when we lived at the farm he came.
Woodcut Fiddlehead
Groping
The carolled angels fade away.
Hope
Through purple dark and sifting sands
Miss Emily
She lives alone,her giant vine-hung dwelling
Epitaph
The grey pallor of death
Radio
When the singing commercials
Pages
Current Issue: No. 302
