When I asked Robert Wynne to join me as co-editor of a new poetry anthology, his immediate response was When do we start? Only
When I asked Robert Wynne to join me as co-editor of a new poetry anthology, his immediate response was When do we start? Only
Behind us, across the long expanse of lawn our guests blow ten thousand bubbles instead of throwing rice. They crowd, all dressed up like
i am reminded to please wait through the silence, to check my work pants at the door, but it’s raining tiny czarists over in