Online Exclusives

I vividly recall my first bus ride on arriving in this country, from New York to Michigan. The feeling of SPACE, of relatively wild space, of woods going on and on was overwhelming to me.  [...]

Impossible. Without the idea of counting. To imagine numbers. Repeating an identical act, a particular mark. Over and over.  [...]

The programmer with his grim black bag brings no cure for encaged, gates shut, companions grimy. Spoonful of laughter, spoonful of lust, skill so droll that dolls call slaves to come and open the wall where I go so young again. Was it better when we used playthings? [...]

Of surrender or denial, surrender and denial
what voice will you offer to the dead
what alphabet to the suffering.  [...]

Finally, how to carry the sky
at twilight? A rose so cool [...]

A day of awnings and fruitless steps. Pause. Something glinting and apparent and political in what she slices. [...]

It starts with examining our shores. An elastic shove 
could inch the edges out, said those who loved greatest 
and with massive breakers. [...]

And if it were possible to pursue the bleeding heart dove to her nest, what then? [...]

Because there is no reason to live, he invents one to fill the void; with purity and vacuity the invented rationale fights the filth and congestion of reality. [...]

Blue as already the shoreline
is breaking, are you a
lakefront the question is
lacking  [...]

You walk above in the light,
     Soulful genius, on a yielding floor! 
         God’s shining breezes
            Gently touch you  [...]

Memory of silt and blush.
A no-touch Ikebana arranges the river’s first thought.
This is how the Jade Fable ends.  [...]

Lots of laughter
Before and after. Every meeting
Rhymed and fluttered into meter.
The beat was the message. [...]

I leave with that voice? In Austria the alps are blowing 
with bedsheets. The innkeeper sings my child, my child [...]

imprisoned on the fissure the figure considers 
the fossils in the rock between the figure and the arrested  [...]

an eternity of New Wave 
Fridays, of the one perfect 

airplane haunting the tinsel 
town machinery undone  [...]

gone unnoticed the inevitable protagonists accrue 

fragile centipede working rot into unreliable endnotes  [...]

I would walk a tightrope for you

enter on entropy the balled up  [...]

 First, Audrey is in the garden. She will be there in the end. [...]

Ibak is my name.

It doesn’t mean anything. [...]