Waiting rooms At stations Begging for us to pause
Yet another new poetry release received a standing ovation and the poet is heralded as the "voice of a generation."
Bathe in that city of yours In its eternal darkness, and rotted fruit vines The juice, or blood, draining itself out of you…
a woman walks down the street the day hot, the day long, 6pm, and full of rush
I am nobody. Walking through the false tears of sand,
I can get you a free quote today,/ Not right now, but I’ve been known to make them,/Stick around and you’ll hear or
After breaking bread together,/ men gather where we have for decades.
It is the madeleine that gives him away./ Well, that and the silk cravat/ pinned like a butterfly to his stiff white collar.
The lyrical essay has become one of the most popular forms of nonfiction in recent years. This resurgence is due in part
ladder drapes bruised, scarred, and charred,