I heard the doctors whisper
in the hall outside my door.
Grown men seldom whisper
unless someone is asleep.
But they must have seen I was
excessively alert.
Safe in bed, yet in the distance
the sound of shelling. . . .
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Three Poems from Antigone: Sons and Fathers
By Sophocles, translated by Kelly Cherry
A Fabricated Notebook about the Market Economy: Excerpts
By Ouyang Jianghe, translated by Dian Li
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The Congo Snake
Feet of petty chances, you Came out on the other side Of love & mercy. No one Cares if you rise from the lower worldOr not, as something to grind […]
Pan
Elizabeth, I must say, Pan wasn’t raising Cain among the reeds. He had taken off his mask, & was lying there, puffing ganja,Blowing Rasta smoke rings & nibbling on a […]
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