Of The Ever-Changing Agitation In The Air (Jorie Graham Poem)
The man held his hands to his heart as he danced. He slacked and swirled. The doorways of the little ...
The man held his hands to his heart as he danced. He slacked and swirled. The doorways of the little ...
In the fairy tale the sky makes of itself a coat because it needs you to put it on. How ...
All this was written on the next day's list. On which the busyness unfurled its cursive roots, pale but effective, ...
I have put on my great coat it is cold. It is an outer garment. Coarse, woolen. Of unknown origin. ...
In this blue light I can take you there, snow having made me a world of bone seen through to. ...
It has a hole in it. Not only where I concentrate. The river still ribboning, twisting up, into its re- ...
Today, because I couldn't find the shortcut through, I had to walk this town's entire inner perimeter to find where ...
I watched them once, at dusk, on television, run, in our motel room half-way through Nebraska, quick, glittering, past beauty, ...
Spring Up, up you go, you must be introduced. You must learn belonging to (no-one) Drenched in the white veil ...
Shall I move the flowers again? Shall I put them further to the left into the light? Win that fix ...
is by admitting or opening away. This is the simplest form of current: Blue moving through blue; blue through purple; ...
The slow overture of rain, each drop breaking without breaking into the next, describes the unrelenting, syncopated mind. Not unlike ...
Over a dock railing, I watch the minnows, thousands, swirl themselves, each a minuscule muscle, but also, without the way ...
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