You do not have to drown for this. You do not have to be a Shanghai tycoon dangling your pale feet in a celadon pool outside a teahouse, plum blossoms opening everywhere like the delicate O’s of a thousand tiny kisses. You do not have to be a Turk, psoriatic, scabrous, soaking your pallid legs … Continue reading Feeding the “Doctor Fish”
by Daryl Jones →
But for the owl’s persistent question, issuing now and then from a nearby spruce in the darkness and falling snow, I would think that I’m alone, outside the hospital entrance, under the portico at 3 a.m., getting some air. Nothing moves in the snowfall, apart from the snow itself, which rises, paradoxically, the longer it … Continue reading Vigil
by Daryl Jones →
Daryl Jones lives in Boise, Idaho. His poems have appeared in Black Warrior Review, The Idaho Review, The Sewanee Review, TriQuarterly, and elsewhere. His book Someone Going Home Late received the Natalie Ornish Poetry Award from the Texas Institute of Letters. He is a former Idaho Writer-in-Residence and a past recipient of an NEA Creative … Continue reading Daryl Jones →