Why Are Your Poems so Dark? ~ Linda Pastan Isn’t the moon dark too, most of the time? And doesn’t the white page seem unfinished without the dark stain of alphabets? When God demanded light, he didn’t banish darkness. Instead he invented ebony and crows and that small mole on your left cheekbone. Or did […]
Bread and Stars ~ Oktay Rifat translated from the Turkish by Sidney Wade and Efe Murad Bread is in my lap, Stars are far, far away. I am eating bread looking at the stars. I am so engrossed, don’t even ask— Sometimes I get mixed up and instead of bread I eat stars.
Every day,
ever-changing:
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Bread ~ Steve Klepetar My grandfather tore his bread, sloshed it around brown gravy, bent over his plate, but my grandmother buttered hers with light, demure dabs, and If I could find their graves, I’d pour out red libations, feel their bodies buried deep in mine.
