It's no use by Sappho, translated by Mary Barnard It's no use Mother dear, I can't finish my weaving You may blame...

In Memoriam, July 19, 1914 by Anna Akhmatova, translated by Stephen Edgar We aged a hundred years and this descended In just one hour,...

Adam Abecedarian by Susan Vespoli Adam has become a                c l o u d   dances biblical excerpts       feet and toes   going ...

I Am the Burning Woman by JC Reilly   come to set aflame the seagrasses  on the shore old stumps and driftwood     a rowboat tethered   ...

The Junior High School Band Concert by David Wagoner When our semi-conductor Raised his baton, we sat there Gaping at Marche Militaire,...

What We Might Be, What We Are by X. J. Kennedy If you were a scoop of vanilla And I were the cone where you sat, If you were a slowly...

Personal Letter No. 3 by Sonia Sanchez nothing will keep us young you know not young men or women who spin their youth on cool playing...

From the Throat of Crows by Erica Manto Paulson She circled the date she would wrap her car around a tree in blue eyeliner on her wall...