January 25th, 2012
Angie Macri
Tags/ Posted by Kathleen KirkYou marvel at mosslight & owl-screech, question if keening is important—the dirge of bees swarming at the windowsills, the roosters that only crow at night.continue reading this poem
The mud has frozen, so all beasts go on their paths without leaving prints among the stones.
January 11th, 2012
Scott Poole
Tags/ Posted by Kathleen KirkIn a din chamber Mother sets my vice Little bed of needlescontinue reading this poem
He couldn’t sit still from the knocking inside the body, from the faint shouting, thinking this must be love.
December 14th, 2011
Mary Biddinger
Tags/ Posted by Kathleen KirkDali, my darling, I've laid my wreath of wire at your floppy dial; calling you on the lobster phone, burning with love like giraffes.continue reading this poem
We all kept grinding our respective pestles into the assigned mortars, despite the lack of intrinsic beauty.
November 30th, 2011
Bertha Rogers
Tags/ Posted by Kathleen KirkI stole in the past and I stole from the past and I’d gladly steal from your past for this poem.continue reading this poem
But all she really wanted was trees, leaves, a clean counter. She wanted to knock at a door that never opened. That would suffice.
