Stephen Cramer Distraction In the museum of picture frames, try not to be distracted by the paintings within: incidental lily pond, subsidiary nudes, minor skies blurred by the dizzy churn of stars. Stephen Cramer teaches writing and literature at the University of Vermont and lives with his wife and daughter in Burlington.
Read MoreMike Cole Glacier Point Moonrise Tonight the full moon will climb the curved shoulder of Half Dome and we will stand at the lip of Yosemite Valley and watch as the miles of spires in the east are tinged in pale silver Mike Cole lives and writes and waits on the arrival of poems in […]
Read MoreJohn Fritzell On Yom Kippur Taking confession through a curtain of cattails, the wren winks at me. John Fritzell plays with words in Appleton, WI and first shares them with his two labradors.
Read MoreSteve Klepetar Poker Face Beneath our enchanting facial expressions the skull always waits, poker face. Tomas Transtromer It holds eights and aces, lingers awhile over the last bet as the pot swells, ice clinks in the glasses, cigar smoke curls, and in the background a soft guitar, a woman singing about the endless road. Steve […]
Read MoreMike Cole Black Flame The last time you came to me the night broke into black flame and I breathed just once before I rose like windborne ash and swirled to meet you where we both became the same idea. Mike Cole lives and writes and waits on the arrival of poems in the mountains […]
Read MoreJ.R. Solonche Fence Deference Although the rails have fallen and only the posts are in the ground, four stand-ins for a fence no longer recognizable, I’ll leave them alone, for this morning I saw a goldfinch perched atop one, flickering like a flame in the wind. J.R. Solonche is the author of 25 books of […]
Read MoreAlexandra Sweny You Are Impossible to Write Love Poems About I don’t want the distance of a metaphor: Just you, as you. Alexandra Sweny is happy to be here.
Read MoreMike Cole Adrift Somewhere between continents of ice a solitary gray whale barnacled and festooned with scavengers and other hangers on drifts in search of what one might call love. Mike Cole lives and writes and waits on the arrival of poems in the mountains of Central California near Yosemite.
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