From this Issue
Poem
From the magazine:The Hitchhikers
The Hitchhikers
By Diane Wakoski
They burn you
like the berries of mountain ash in August,
standing by the road,
clearly defined,
Autumnal brilliant, heads
scorched from waiting
in the sun.
How can
you pass them up?
But you do,
and dream each night of a hell,
where you are a hitchhiker,
and no one will ever...
like the berries of mountain ash in August,
standing by the road,
clearly defined,
Autumnal brilliant, heads
scorched from waiting
in the sun.
How can
you pass them up?
But you do,
and dream each night of a hell,
where you are a hitchhiker,
and no one will ever...
Poem
From the magazine:Hospital
Hospital
By John Unterecker
I. PULSE
Light over the Hudson recovers a Caribbean I have
never seen.
We list islands: Molokai, Oahu, Kauai; St. Lucia,
Haiti….
The surf folds tunnels of light
while a hand folds over a wrist (tell-tale pulse),
counting. The long tunnel is a wrist of...
Table of Contents
- Diane Wakoski
- John Unterecker
- Michael Waters
- Mark Jarman
- Gary Soto
- David Wagoner
Comment
- Arthur Oberg
- Edward Butscher
Contents
CONTRIBUTORS
