S. A. Crawford

a line of spoons
upon the sill
in a lengthy row
nesting nestled within
...

Into ages we blow the dandelion wish,
Release it to turn of memories' air;
So by flight or burr, float or stitch,
Couriers bear dreams of worlds' seeded fare.
...

Dead Man, Reamis

There he is. So very still.
His bones, rattleless. They do not give
...

The Blue Pool Of


If I had known,
...

Into Ether
Into—
into the ether
This
...

I became a poet
to save my life.
Had no choice,
God made me do it.
...