I came home tonight to an empty
grass-grown field. No leaves of paper
remained. No moon hung on dangling wire
Poetry 88
Lizzie Harris: Domestics
I was dreaded
like a deadline: a thin string
tying her to death.
Aviva Englander Cristy: Want for Absence
Your body, another earthquake, the summary of a shift in ground. I must hone
attention, rivet the focus and plant a beacon. Your city is the moment of stillness,
Miles Waggener: Dirt Bike
J. rides his dirt bike
the length of desert
counties to take the keys
Michael Derrick Hudson: Walking with Brenda Twenty Years Ago through Chicago’s Graceland Cemetary
Like April’s ambassadors we buzzed between the mausoleums
and mocked the blurred epitaphs and
Shelley Girdner: The blue hood
Since I was born, I’ve been praying to something blue
and hooded inside me, straight from the cave