Reviewed by Freesia McKee What strikes me most about How Blood Works by Ellene Glenn Moore is how each poem functions as ekphrasis. The
Feel like fallin’ in love with the first woman I meet, Puttin’ her in a wheelbarrow and wheeling her down the street. Bob Dylan
Today, the sunflower echoes the aging banana on our counter, each one speckling into death. I think of death differently every day. My father’s
The roads are furrows in the green, troughs carved through to Florence from the beach. The heat grows as we go along. Soon the