Online Exclusives

12.30.04
Swiss Miss
Lingers now in peace upon the swollen tide,
ruby-throat fallen from sky in the last few hours. [...]
11.16.04
From Draft 59: Flash Back
A half glass carafe,
a choice red ochre chalk,
a felt-blue paper  [...]
10.18.04
From Archicembalo
Ask if this showing will make a better weave. [...]
09.17.04
I know the letters this way
The way I talk is a result of the way I hear her I was told but it took how long to show up in cursive. [...]
08.17.04
Diagramming Here: An Interview
Free verse and the prose poem may have emerged in revolt against the formality inhabiting French language but insofar as New York School poets write imitating the relaxed line that they have read they persuade us of their urbanity and their literariness.  [...]
08.01.04
CLOUD / RIDGE
pale blue white haze in front of the vertical

plane of the ridge in window on left, sunlit

orange flower on green passion-vine covered

fence in right foreground  [...]
07.08.04
Summer Letters
shored up inside still
they speak liturgies over
this valley’s grid [...]
06.01.04
The Skirmish
“… and then I died and went to France.”
Thus, the story of your life wrapped up and pensive. [...]
04.17.04
Two Poems
Play your hand, Madame.
      Black stripe down
your dress, keyhole slit,
      door to a dark room.  [...]
02.26.04
FAQ
I first drew shoes on an animal a long long time ago. [...]
02.17.04
The Library of Seven Readings
Because its material substratum remains transcendental
the freedom of the subject, which the transcendental is designed to rejuvenate,
allows us to inhale and exhale refreshing drafts just as we approach the summit. [...]
01.22.04
Two Poems
It drew in my eyes, a slab, on it a huge white fish
just landed, or beached, a beluga, intact, naked  [...]
01.06.04
From Nets
you               absent in

                              every thing



    the deep vermilion
                  figures
              pattern of

    your shadow [...]

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In Print

Vol. 70
Sanctuary: The Preservation Issue
Spring 2018
Edited by Bradford Morrow

Online

August 14, 2018
The coffee from yesterday warmed up and left in the microwave, the late-December sky two hours before the sun comes up outside of smudgy windows. Sitting. The desk. The bed. The bed the desk. It’s funny the things we hold on to, for no particular reason, or no good reason.
July 31, 2018
Perhaps we should begin in extreme heat
              or intemperate ice,                  in salt solutions,   
              in drastic acid or radical alkaline,         in heavy metals
or in toxic waste—                    wherever life seems improbable
July 24, 2018
First, an unsteady tree of clothing inside the door: the coat rack, heaped with jackets, scarfs and furs, most torn, buttons missing, some stained, all rarely worn as few ever go out—for what is outside the house but another house?