Got to be starting
some thing. My father used to
minor birds with butcher twine.
Revise each one to be
The horoscope writer kills herself on a Tuesday. It is, by coincidence, the day the weekly paper comes out. Townspeople read her column and find it mundane but also uncanny. Here, some of them feel, are words from beyond the veil.
I called desire a lie that wants a cure,
but don't assume the cure for lies is truth,
or that by cure I meant a kind of health
Even the commentator on NPR said, in her living room concert voice, “It appears that, once again, we Americans have asserted our individuality in the universe..."
...here / in the ocean caves where we breathe air, / sweet air, dewy with imprints of the shark / crimes, where the waves carry long lost envelopes
Your dad died most of 2 weeks ago. I don't want you to care too much about it. I sure as hell don't...
The ghosts of men who named the river / suckle moon-limned mist slipping down / from thick firefly-flickering treelines...
Co-Written with Chris Campanioni Long before the Internet was re-routed from military servers and mainstreamed, Foucault understood the efficacy of…
About the Participants Mary Biddinger is the author of six full-length poetry collections, most recently Small Enterprise and The Czar (with Jay Robinson),…