Undressing night sky— chamomile petals orbit the mud hut Your metal womb All our hopes, enough sausage—to go with the moon
The storm had stopped. I lay beside my father in Mississippi. I counted one-Mississippi, two-Mississippi. That river’s mighty currents pulled you under. Quicksand also
Reviewed by Ed Bennett Anthologies are usually straightforward: there is a unifying theme and a body of poetry or essays that address the theme.