A Public Sphere for Poetry, Politics, and Nature
At night, the trees bend hard. The crows are awake, chattering their secret language in the darkness.
Two weeks ago, I spied those splotches of blood against the white concrete, the roses scattered across the sidewalk. I imagined it was a fist fight or a knifing at … Continue reading →
I load the tiny Leica at the kitchen table, the CL that almost fits in my palm. There are piles of broken asphalt downstairs and the remnants of a flash … Continue reading →
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