Winter 2000 • Vol. XXII No. 1 Poetry |

Crystal Blue Persuasion

The City of God has terraces where you look out on nothing—an aphasia,    a rift in eternity—where there's nothing spoken for, no premises, only a blueprint of emptiness like a dream house, a kind of consolation.Or so she imagined, seeing papyrus-shaped columns in the great temples    of Egypt ramify beyond the page she read, and courtyards extended into the secular         realm as pressure chambers between time and time. The processions would have crossed a space—star-lit or stippled with light—such as human eyes scan when they lift for a thought, searching to bring back, as if across some wide and formless water, a bit of lapis stone, or a green branch to build a heaven with.

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Question and Answer

By Barbara Jordan

The City of God has terraces where you look out on nothing—an aphasia,    a rift in eternity—where there's nothing spoken for, no premises, only a blueprint of emptiness like a […]

Forbidden Poem

By Barbara Jordan

The City of God has terraces where you look out on nothing—an aphasia,    a rift in eternity—where there's nothing spoken for, no premises, only a blueprint of emptiness like a […]

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