Enough This cold morning what you seek is what raven has. Nothing but sun on his shoulders. About the Poet: Tom Montag is the author of In This Place: Selected Poems 1982-2013, This Wrecked World, and The Miles... Continue Reading →
Sanborn Library, February The hum of hot water kicking inside hidden pipes belies the library as a respite from noise. The walls’ iron arteries measure time in metallic hisses. An old woman coughs, then turns her page. A young girl,... Continue Reading →
Remember Her When she turns blue Remember her as sky. Grey, she is the sea Leaden, gone, Still half-asleep, Dragging death by a string. It already sounds distant as The sharp gasp of ghost, Punishing us, shy thing, By turning... Continue Reading →
explaining poetry to my grandmother I do not say “I write about myself” because it sounds pretentious to say my bones crash into stanza, where piles of powdery rubble tearing my own physical structure apart— ++++++++++ --limb by limb— ++++++++++... Continue Reading →
Checking Fencelines Marriage is hands-on farm management. Balance books with dreams and sunrises. Chase piglets that squirm through fences. Let kittens abide in the hayloft. Make dogs leave chickens alone. Collect blue eggs in a wire basket. Cultivate to reap.... Continue Reading →
New Horizons The New Horizons space probe is the size of my parents’ four-poster bed. and is speeding away from the earth at 31,000 miles per hour. It is almost out of fuel and cannot slow down. It has used... Continue Reading →
Poetry Breakfast 