Timothy McLafferty lives in NYC and works as a musician. His poems have appeared in Pearl, Crate, Barrow Street, Painted Bride Quarterly and elsewhere. He is the poetry editor at Forge Journal.
Odilon Redon painted Saint Sebastian many times, the standard image: bound to a plane tree and bristling with arrows. Left for dead by Emperor Diocletian it was Saint Irene who carried him home and nursed him back to health. Once mended, he resumed his ministries, until one day seeing the emperor pass by, he must […]
It’s rocks you’re after and you rake the way glaciers convey erratics :stones that hold all losses —your hand sweeps the water-shine contour without trace calibrating ear to sea :a music bent —all stones sing out as deaf composers insist a Grosse Fuge —those broken waves, the sound of earth drinking. —for Simon Perchik