Poetry
Autumn 1994
Lie #4: That Frances Osgood Slept with E. A. Poe
They say it isn’t sex that you remember. I disagree. I think of Edgar’s frown that night we lay in bed till after five talking about the future as the […]
Poetry
Autumn 1994
Lie #6: That Hart Crane Crawled in Bed between the Cowleys
LIE #6: THAT HART CRANE CRAWLED IN BED BETWEEN THE COWLEYS “Exhaustion has become its own reward,” I said, plopping onto their sheets, as gray as grebes too filled with […]