What a Rush

by Ron Smith

to see you there in the sun, shining with your best smile, not in fact gone forever, waving off my question, delighted with my delight, sitting bony on my lap, which you would never have done in life, my proper … Continue reading

Briefe Historie of the Noose in the Colonie of Virginia

by David Wojahn

I. Gabriel Prosser, Hanged in Richmond for Inciting Slave Rebellion, 1800 Turning our Tortures into horrid Arms Against our Torturer…. Paradise Lost –Book II The smithy, arms akimbo at his forge. The sweat Beads glisten; long scars zigzag his ebon … Continue reading

Look, Slavs

by David Kirby

Remember when you were a little kid and somebody said “Slav” and you thought they said “slob” and wondered if the two words were the same and then realized they weren’t but thought they might be connected in some way … Continue reading

The Bad Poetry Reading

by David Kirby

It’s not your fault that you didn’t like it. It’s the poems’ fault. And the poet’s. The poems were bad, and he shouldn’t have read them. Here’s why: every time you give a talk or teach a class or play … Continue reading


by Allison Adair

Gettysburg The peacock’s spurs are caught again in the diamond chickenwire of his low slanted pen. Nobody bothers anymore to hammer the sagging barn. Summer visitors regard the old farm from cars without chrome, up on the hastily paved path— … Continue reading


by Michael Spence

–for Sharon I think I now know     Why the birch will split the thin     Layer of its skin again And again but rarely show The darker wood at its core.     Although the bark peels     Back, it won’t reveal Anything … Continue reading


by Miriam Kotzin

Emily 1. from the introduction to Emily Dickinson’s Letters by Mabel Loomis Todd The lovers eager (a passing mood), she kept no journal. Far-away in her garden, dark finger-tips hold a shadow. 2 from the introduction to Emily Dickinson’s Letters … Continue reading


by Miriam Kotzin

Well, then, consider the proud goldenrod. It lords the pasture and roadways while all summer long it busies itself with hoarding the heat and the sunlight. It holds them up as an offering, all the gathered summer gold as if … Continue reading

Playing Mozart at the Town Dump

by Margaret Gibson

The concerto in D streams out the moon roof. Inside the car the air is ripe with Mozart, watermelon rind, cat litter, stale beer bottles, napkins infused with fish oil, pickle juice, loneliness, and a mouse nest I shook free … Continue reading

A Taut String Across the Path

by Brendan Galvin

  between the marsh grass and the dunes, so I pulled it, though naturally even out here you tend to wonder about explosions these days. Out on the marsh as I tugged a black-and-white skull-and-crossbones stood up–a kite with red … Continue reading