Euclidean Senses
2 September 2003
Vol. 3, No. 3
poetry
We were a plane angle of a sort, inclined
to one another in a plane not lying in a straight line.
Her husband might know, or worse, she herself
might find out, seeing as the whole affair…
Tar Pit, Freight Train
2 September 2003
Vol. 3, No. 3
poetry
Feet sinking in the Wal-Mart parking lot, walls thick and soft
as mattresses crawling up. Windproof, soundproof, dizzy
from the world buzzing around, hummingbirds hovering
to see how much sweetness they can get before the cup…