Member since February 18, 2011 | 0 Readings |
Subscribed by Brett Wright
We’re all meant to go like this, in a tapestried room, / the chandelier tinkling like an insistent fork against / its oyster. We pry at the…
Gutting the Farmhouse Upon Grandfather’s…
My heart leapt when I thought of all I could destroy. / I tore the cherry banisters from the foyer’s broad staircase / and piled the…
Pessimist’s Guide to Miracles
A donkey in Siena brays the name / of Catherine, his saint, but no one hears— / no Balaam to be spared the angel’s flame. / / How many…
I. / / Sweet sorghum on a lover’s tongue / Fresh briar marks on her thighs / Black beetles cased in cedar sap with new-hatched dragonflies …
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