A Public Sphere for Poetry, Politics, and Nature
He tells her this: “When ejaculating, I quack.” “Promise?”She’s poking water next to him — tipping front, then back, and then over again, looking at the sky, sideways.He gets her feathers … Continue reading →
For David Fenza Warm in my truck by the lighthouse at Watch Hill on a sunny morning in mid-winter, I observe the ducks bobbing among ice-covered rocks and think … Continue reading →
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