HollandYou wrote a poem.  About Brigitte Fontaine.  Hollandwas in there, somewhere.  Later though you removed it, you thought Arnhem a better fit, there wasn’t enough bite in...

DressmakingThey might have thought she was dead,the sailors, as they docked opposite her door, as if some trick of the light would dupe them into seeing her propped in a black box by the stove, but...

in the rainall the lost pieces of her lifeline the alleyway in Bercy:a slot machine rocking horse, barrels of beersquare planters with shrubsshe shakes her head. this isn’t right.above her, unholy...

Bondage I once knew a woman who was Houdini’s opposite. No hands, unaided, she had taught herself to gagher wants with masking tape, shackle her feet,bind her own wrists in the manner of famous...

Ink Sweat & Tears editor is on the roads at the moment with internet connections few and far between, so here's a short poem from Michael Estabrook that neatly sums up one aspect of...

Military Brat?So you’re a military brat?Yes, I replied, each time, quizzically obedient,though today wondering what the hell that meant.We moved every two to three years,moved in the middle of the...

We mentioned the launch for Martin Figura's new collection Whistle in the previous posting – now here's another poem from that collection...DistanceSuddenly June catches her breath,wakes...

FifteenDusk, high summer,the sky streaked caramel.Muffled shouts and dog barkssweep the shoreline like radar;the sand is strewn with jellyfish.I thread back, reeled in through marram and...

Souvenir My daughter could not bring the sun from Greece.So she arrived, swinging a carrier bag,Light blue, bristling with Ks, and crammed with sweets. First, there was nougat, which I...

Love Cliché   Rebekah believed in the power of the healing heartHearing her say this didn’t crush his heart,But a part crumbled to the floor. Another time she actually said the words,One...