Category Archives: Poetry

Because you are 60, because you have built your self a beautiful life on hard work, because you never expected anything less, because you are a brilliant doctor, because you have so much riding on it, because you don’t actually … Continue reading →

The splat must have been sickening. No net for this family. He was frozen by the fall, and he pulled himself up, never again pulling himself up, by the blood of the trapeze of the hapless little circus.   The … Continue reading →

We should sign up to see only people we like, like Albert Goldbarth, who dishes out a maelstrom of nipple-twitching, a lip ring in a dungeon.   I am so glad to have you to talk to. How can I … Continue reading →

They cup hands around the smolder like guarding bruised fruit. We never watch them   light the match, just know they burst with oxygen. If we’d witness the catch   and cultivation, spread of soft flame   underground (The roots … Continue reading →

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 →