Of Caliban and the Sixes, Upon the Cuttlefish

MMXII, i

        Sense is a poem with 22 ilkes ruins a carp     of bothersome hand    bells or sanded    to round stitch           a whole        fundy sometimes that old mustard feeling under jive turkeys    out on godless      high thanks          giving orations          ...
The Poet as Job Creator

The Poet as Job Creator

At first glance the title of my editorial in this issue might seem to be satirical. After all, the term job creators has been bandied about for the last twenty years as a way of characterizing what some see as the primary animating force of the American economy. Poets...
Of Caliban and the Sixes, Upon the Cuttlefish

The Stray Dogs of Mexico

One crosses the street, ribs like ladder rungs leaning inside him. I want to climb to God, ask and ask. The streets are full of crushed plastic bottles. The mountain air has left us winded. On the coast we sit in open huts, wear flip flops to the shore, each grain of...