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Sarah Breisch on Monika Cooper

The flight from time is essential to the human condition, but is also a typically modern fancy. We have built our world upon devices and rituals whose sole purpose is to bend time to our will, to escape the perceived bondage we are in to its unrelenting tread. But what we have forgotten, and what this poem by Monika Cooper reminds ...

Moonbelly

by Amos J. Hunt What an appetite! Moonbelly would have eaten everything—earth, sky, ocean, stars, lakes, comets—swallowed all of it, given a lifetime long enough. That's how awfully violent, hopeless love afflicted him: lifelong love as makes men empty, turns terrestrial hearts to an alien element. Food's the stuff when ...

Once

Life spelled itself in letters, black, tight-lipped: I’ve bled my passions out in spates of ink. The margins bloomed like flowers on a crypt. Once, when my hands were empty, and I dipped them in Night’s waters, there, I seemed to think, life spelled itself in letters, black, tight-lipped. So much was written there, the ...

The Lamp

Shower-curtain curtains. The early light soaks through, sea-foam green, the color of the wings of the luna moth, wings found broken underneath the streetlight when the night had passed. Oh New Hampshire, let not your dawn find me so broken after this night of hard beating against the brightness of what I seek.   by ...