Featured Poetry

Four Sleepless Nights

  1. there’s an embroidered

                      twilight that fills

   the crease of curbstones

                            like slowly rising water:

   here

   in shadowy caricature:  

   here where forceps unglue night from day.

 

  1. i’ve smelled small mysteries that hovered  in fog;

                                     scattered 

                           like

    a teacup slapped from