Michael Simms: Three Young Poets Drinking All Night In the Cemetery of the Black Angel, Iowa City, 1977
as if we could carry away the urn
of grief long dead parents felt for their child
lost to diphtheria, typhus, pox or pure accident
March 8, 2026 · 46 Comments
Cesare Pavese: Displaced People
Suppose tomorrow, bright and early, we took a trip
to my hills. We could stroll through the vineyards and, maybe,
meet with a couple of girls, dark brown, ripened by the sun,
we could start a conversation and sample some of their grapes.
October 10, 2025 · 6 Comments
Fred Johnston: The Summer Before We Were Killed in the War
We’d double scull the river, splitting the river
Like a scalpel through silk
June 13, 2024 · 5 Comments
Paul Christensen: Portrait of the Artist as a Young Twit
I used to wander around on lower Broadway in Manhattan when I was still a teenager. I had a dead-end job at a valve company taking orders from plumbers wanting a gate valve or oversized coupling for an apartment building going up.
September 18, 2022 · 13 Comments
