Postscript
19 March 2007
Vol. 7, No. 1
poetry, editors' select
Barefoot under a borrowed poncho, we touch
(misused synapse to misused synapse)
but wonder where are the fucking marshmallows?
Answering the Whistle, the Glare
16 March 2007
Vol. 7, No. 1
poetry
The body: a series of sanctuaries, an archipelago
of temples clung to the rock facade of hill or bone.
Dusk Approaching the Bridge Between
13 March 2007
Vol. 7, No. 1
poetry
We work in a winter of soon & make do
while we wait for your wife to bring fruit & deli sandwiches
to prove connections best, maintained.
