Poetry
Spring 1991
The Box This Comes In
The box this comes in is not beautiful, at least it is not aggressively beautiful, meaning the workmanship, as it was formerly called–regardless of who took up the tools, but […]
Poetry
Spring 1991
The Provisional Life
The weavers let down their blinds against the sun’s brass blare. A woman framed in a window looks over the terraced tiles drinking soup from a cup. She has turned […]