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The Writing of Marream Krollos
“. . .The horses can focus. They will not be disturbed by their vision. I am too loud when I speak. We are also too loud. The horses stay quiet in the city.…
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The Poetry of Adrienne Burris
“I want to tell both wolves that one year ago,/my brother died in the middle of the night./Died suddenly and alone, so this freefall, over/the edge with breath-catching, body strapped/floating over steel beams,…
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Doug Van Gundy’s Poetry
“The man at the table across from mine/is eating a painting with a knife and fork./It looks to be a lesser Pollock, or perhaps/a Clyfford Still, regardless, abstract/expressionism, surprisingly modern/for a restaurant…
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The Poetry of Jeff Hardin
“Almost as suddenly, I thought of all the important lines by others that have stayed with me through the years: ‘You must change your life’ (Rilke), ‘How soon unaccountable I became’ (Whitman), ‘practice…
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The Poetry of Karen Donovan
“When the weather turns left I’ll turn into it,/reaching for washouts with my inherited pedipalps,/wagering grapeshot precision I can get home/before lightning thumbtacks me to the palisades./My middle game has never been that…
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The Poetry of Doug Van Gundy
“The man at the table across from mine/is eating a painting with a knife and fork./It looks to be a lesser Pollock, or perhaps/a Clyfford Still, regardless, abstract/expressionism, surprisingly modern/for a restaurant with…
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The Poetry of David Dodd Lee
“When fog hangs this thick there is the pinkest/odor of trouble One chair at the table’s made/of painted wood and sits empty Before we settled/this country before…
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The Poetry of R. Flowers Rivera
“All my life, in any place,/ for no reason, my grandfather’s 280 acres call out my name. Free and clear./Sister Gary, Gay, Gaynette. But all those stale breaths have gone somewhere/else. Cool dirt,…
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The Poetry of Susan Tekulve
“These days, though, I leave the lavender alone./I prefer brushing their velvety leaves accidentally, releasing/ their soapy scent, summoning the bees/whose hind claws are so compacted with pollen/they appear to wear tiny…
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The Poetry of Alexandra Thurman
“The world wants to tell you what it means./Words everywhere Messages: in the thin lines/of tide, in the waves’ foamed cursive left behind/on the flat, unrolled paper of sand./Bird skips, blank space, hieroglyphs,/wind…