Welcome to Volume 2 of Cider Press Review (2001), courtesy of The Digital Project. In this volume of Cider Press Review, we revisit 2001,
He loved himself intensely, loved his eyes, the sleepy mellow droop of his eyelids neatly creased at the corners. Satisfied, calm, he took the
Dear Postmaster: My mailbox is still full of bees & I still have not gotten any letters since September 10, 1979. How do you
My father called it la boca del lobo. The wolf’s mouth. The palm trees lean closer to the earth, as if for warmth, or