Category Archives: Poetry

Please indulge this. Because the nettles only sting when alive. Because dead things are so easily severed by a blade of grass. Honeybees would rather die than eat the last of honey. I try to find you amongst the ruined … Continue reading →

Dear Readers, Over a year, poets John Gallaher and G.C. Waldrep wrote poems to one another through email, sometimes exchanging three or four poems a day. As the exchanges progressed, the poets recognized a third voice emerging within their poems … Continue reading →

We see the carousel and at our age we still can’t come anywhere near resisting Three riders brothers forced best friends “How far to Jerusalem” The truest realest most unprovable things are really funny sometimes. Crusaders, disciples, forced individuals who … Continue reading →

In the periwinkle-grey of morning, From primordial mountains, Jerusalem births Herself majestic.   Purple toward azure, Whispers Shacharit; Prayers kiss Shemyim’s sister.   White clouds realize the day, Then donkeys, hens, and cars, Embrace the dawn; Unspoken serenity erupts for … Continue reading →

The tea bag sinks to the bottom of the cup. I wait a few minutes; watch as the water turns dark. I sip the tea. It works no magic. I go outside; watch the sun set. As it sinks into … Continue reading →

hangover it’s not the lack of belief that has caused me to crucify myself on a thousand crowded nights   it’s the sun, how it rises every morning,   reminding me that I have empires to build and faces to … Continue reading →

She wanted her first car to be a red dragon, to breathe fire, rev, lift up off the dealer’s parking lot and fly. The seats, hand-sewn red leather; headlamps, glowing a high-intensity Halogen; tires, clawed in a deep biting tread. … Continue reading →

As a young woman I went to church. I would wiggle in the pew, only still when the men and women sang hymns and the organ swelled. We all prayed the Lord’s Prayer, dipped bread, the Body, into the red … Continue reading →

remove each garment, shed jeans, shirt; strip leaves from trees; scrape old paint; eliminate contents of house, hotel, hovel; break down each engine each weapon into pieces; grind a gearwheel’s teeth; separate volatile components; cut, tear, divide, strip mine the … Continue reading →

How To Make Babies When I was nine my ass bulged against the seat of my elastic waist jeans, stuffing them full as rice sacks. My breasts had not yet hardened against a t-shirt’s fabric or sweater that let in … Continue reading →