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1-800-HOT-CHAT

It’s such a dumb thing small thing. Right? I’m on the phone faking this guy out. Maybe some regular. He can’t know that I...

What Grandma Read at the Bottom of My Cup

The hand that strokes the sleeping cheek will throb with self-control: a pulsing power station. Kindness is titanium. So plant. The seed will burrow up through dirt...

Greylock Glen

yarrow+ ferns +vetch +++clamber over stone foundations ++++++++of the vanished cabins ++++++++of the extraordinarily stubborn who tried to farm steep slopes +++who built beside quick brooks but one day had...

Two Poems: Youth and To Silence

Youth Youth is a pig, a certain nervousness. Blindly, youth trots in, makes its noise. Its comma-mouth keeps running on. You grow comfortable with youth, stay up each night. At every...

Exposure

When I asked you to take off +++++your neon orange trucker hat to sit for a photo between two trees, +++++I did feel embarrassed for you, awkward to...

The Plague Year Begins and Half Life: Two Poems

The Plague Year Begins Outside the world blooms without us as we picnic alone on whatever was left when the sirens started a burning in the lungs. How...

Summer. You.

What tells you ripeness, Love? What tells you wonder? To green a bud to bloom, to burst, to plunder Spring’s Dear light. Who is most wonderful?...

The Yiddish World: Five Poems

Paul Buhle: A few words about the poems: These poems could be described as working notes of successive field trips during 1978-83. Poetry, being...

Two Poems: Prologue to a Stutter and Forward, Thinking

Prologue to a Stutter his first language is himself the translation is running to catch up what you hear is the running * so near       his mouth— a tiny moth lands on his...

Aspiration

Crowned a week before Easter. It is spring. The spirit might have whispered in your ear, as with Mary; the virus could have entered though the eye, through other openings. Your uvula once pink and light as...

Papa Cussed for Fun

Papa hated liverwurst and ordered it just to cuss. To plant his flag in the restaurant. To watch the waiter tremble before Caesar one moment and beg...

Ventilator Moon

A streamlet of breath trickles into shuddering pink caves. Adjust the settings: percent oxygen, breaths per minute, tidal volume. Perhaps tidal volume charts the moon’s pull in anxious blood, a...