Nancy Allison
had as poetry teachers Michael Waters and Amy Clampitt and, before them, the woods and waters of the Chesapeake Bay. In the 1990s, she moved to
“what is poetry?”
by Ulrike Draesner translated from German by Iain Galbraith cleaning vacuuming wiping runny noses a scraped knee stroking tummy to put
through the woods, the nested stalks
by Ulrike Draesner translated from German by Iain Galbraith the trunks, chopped, logged (brandenburg wood) the soft firs laid on long
ball-lightning, hammond organ
by Ulrike Draesner translated from German by Iain Galbraith but didn’t she but didn’t she die but didn’t she revive and was therefore
Sweeney’s Nest
by Philip Arnold An Irish King of Connaught, Sweeney was cursed and made to think he was a bird. How I skimmed the battered
At the End of the Day
by Bill Brown God made everything out of nothing, but the nothingness shows through. — Paul Valery My neighbor stirs around