Turning on the Radio to Rachmaninoff's 18th Variation on a Theme of Pagannini You can’t expect, always, to find a ten or a presidential pardon in a forgotten pocket. But you might, on occasion, turn on the radio to find... Continue Reading →
Note From the Underground we are the afterglow— captured echoes with sun tans day drunk apocalyptos peddling art for memories we are the last burning cigarette of modern day inconvenience and we're almost at the filter. This poem also appears... Continue Reading →
Things He Can Do Which I Can't He can make a knife out of cardboard and a clothespin. With wood scraps he can build a death-ray gun. A banana is a telephone. The floor is burning hot lava. The furniture,... Continue Reading →
Land After Szervanszky’s Wind Quintet, No. 1 breath pours into bassoon body purrs mountain maple sixteenth note swirls soar blueward brass crackles in sunshine cattails’ muddy roots clarinet shadows darken forest duff mist hugs lowlands— evening About the Poet: Peggy... Continue Reading →
A Love Letter The words will be inscribed in neon pink, the writing in your former lover's hand to you when you were seventeen years old, and to that place in you still seventeen years old, and to that place... Continue Reading →
Adrift Sift your history through a silver sand sieve. Watch the cascade of holiday parties and funerals fall. You’ll see there are five million ways it happens, how family turns into relatives. The last straw – the daughter miffed for... Continue Reading →
Poetry Breakfast 