post national poetry month all poetry issue
july 2002

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Though I've resisted the closures of form I've been told the result risks being Jello
charles bernstein

We sing Tom Jones            you and your pussycat nose
hoa nguyen

ripe on the page you are, bending bones over one knee, straddling the sun
anne pepper 

wedding dresses for the homeless. doll clothes for the hungry. we're stacking ottomans beneath a bridge to simulate an attic
dan raphael

linger organ, blind the "sight cook" the
blood 'n lace dries
john m. bennett

An anagram. Grab the needlenose pliers.
valerie fox

That was long ago, now
the machines have returned to oil and dust
jake berry

salted hands still warm with women, mouths rich with memory and signals
tom sheehan

there are more dead than can be counted on.
craig czury

too many dials & these Frenchies are thirsty for blood
paul hardacre

We would like to have something to answer or without looking, turning
bonnie jones

my hands remember a body as breathing, that reply along the passage the skin raises
jill jones

i want to wake i went to woke and i want the bone connection
jessy kendall

I strip you across my palm to weight sinking fins of delicious separation.
lewis lacook

I forget that when the world came for you he drove a car—a black car that had learned how to smell like a flower
carley moore

Were me to me to move sleep true water toward time
larry sawyer

Chester's brother     meaning long dead gunned down by the NYPD & sometimes I incognito
sean dougherty

It is the blood of tides and generations plunged into surf.
annabelle clippinger

Cylinders crucibles and touch thrilling through
the contents temporary and deepest
j. p. craig

lawn furniture stained with catsup and blood in equal parts I can't tell apart
spencer selby

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