Poetry
Bronx, NY (1847-Present) From this cottage,where he heardhis young cousinbride, Virginia (our Annabel Lee), fighther…
If only finches, phoebes, mourning doves could say – rice exploded in our foundling avian…
S****************: T***************L ARS IN A BOW El Paso. ZE All summer we set out to…
if the dream is to go beyond empire if the dream is to stretch our…
Edge “A woman is perfected.” Sylvia Plath She is bare. She is open. Petals around…
that i eat birds/ and even dreamed last night/ I had coughed the feathers up/…