July 1, 1999
Vincent’s Ear
1. Hear this: you are the kind of person to cup your quiet hands around a moth or slap it with the flat of your palm as it paddles toward […]
July 1, 1999
The Wig
1. Melanie who lost her hair because of a stone in her uterus, Melanie wears a wig today. I see her fumble with it, fuss with the back wisps, push […]
July 1, 1999
Blood Music
These things make no sound to me: the trace of your feet on stairs, the brush of flesh against flesh as we turn, not even waking. I think we only […]
July 1, 1999
Audition: On Alison Stine
Over the past decade I have had the privilege of writing about the work of nearly eighty poets. For this magazine alone my essays have considered more than thirty poets, […]
July 1, 1999
Lot of My Sister
1. The only prostitute I ever met sat on a black bench and offered to share her bread with me. She was not that pretty, but the bread was warm […]