October 1, 1982

The Barge

By Charles Edward Eaton

The river was not much wider than an ordinary street,Placid, waiting almost sexually to be penetrated:The ferns, the flowers, somewhere not far off, the maidenhead. I had put aside my […]

October 1, 1982

The Hammer Thrower

By Charles Edward Eaton

One wants some gold paint, oil for enfleurage,The flowers leaching their pervasive smell,A spattered, highly scented mixing-place—Of course it would be better if sunlightGilded the nude in the studio corner,The […]

January 1, 1982

Winter Smoke

By James Moore

white manes of wild light behind the black branches of the dying elms that line the street, withered like amputated limbs that have been stuck in the ground so someone […]

January 1, 1982

Snow

By James Moore

They are making the world all over.This time there is the furred breath of snow.It is silent forever, now, in the new world.Silent and calm and falling whitely.The snow is […]

January 1, 1982

On My Birthday

By James Moore

If I want, I can read a novel from beginning to end without interruption. It's my day and if I want to spend all afternoon on the lawnchair, trailing slowly […]

July 1, 1981

Instead of a Flag

By Lajos Pintér, translated by Kenneth McRobbie

The one who says dear not only to girls—    but to woman-maned landscape, black-ribbon wreathed houses, homeland farms.      The one who can say my people, my people—         but within his memory […]

January 1, 1981

Three Poems: Snow

By Derek Walcott

Against thin woods, Siberian snow steadily erases objects from their names, like weevils in flour rocks crawl under the elms. There is a place whose year is February. A red […]