Black Night—part of the collection, Shapes of Man
by Jeff Hardin (Phoenix, Arizona) You and I at the crossroads, One leading down the path of submission, The other pointing to still another
Explore, Regardless—part of the collection, Shapes of Man
by Jeff Hardin (Phoenix, Arizona) Carrot of immortality, stick of perdition. Candles in cups, sprinkly waters in gaudy bowls. Smoke in bags,
Lightning Bugs—part of the collection, Shapes of Man
Jeff Hardin (Phoenix, Arizona) Arrived late from a wedding, I walked outside to the porch Of her parents’ place, still dizzy, And lit a
Winged
by Susanna Lang And if I do call the right name, if woodpecker is the name I’m searching for, then is the rapid drumbeat I hear down by the river
Lessons
by Susanna Lang — who would believe them winged — in memoriam Lucille Clifton Today your crows are nearly speechless. Only
Michael Macklin
is an associate editor with The Café Review. Lately, he has been working with local poets and police officers to produce The Portland Police