Sabyasachi Nag | THE BURNING MAPLE

THE BURNING MAPLE This fall the Maples have said no To fear. Nothing can scare Them out their gold trappings. Others have quietly yielded: Judases, Sycamores, Tupelos— They’re done ghosting around The chicken fence, Between grass blades, inside brown bags. They are ready to zero down, again. The birds are gone. Naked Branches slither under […]

émilie kneifel | AH

ah red lips red buttons eyelash well-trimmed. google myself once a blue afternoon. the cannon call foot to ball a black flock instead. woodpecker. nail. an eyelash shell. blue. 14 is the night version. you and me, bent. what do they call it, parsimony? the harmony, parsing? the harm in me, parsing? the harm in […]