“National Poetry Month” #12: Phil Hall

from THANKS ALL THE SAME Where #7’s survey tangent                                                cuts across the old lumber draw-roads through limestone highlands to the Ottawa  a starling picks at a blood-orange thrown half-eaten to the gravel from a car ages away now  up close – outcrops do down pink & grey profiles in shadow to the north – unclaimed

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“National Poetry Month” #10: Victor Coleman

From MAL ARME G Independent of a Debate on Form                                                     for Kate (in the key of) Because true works (as I often say) in the official canon, have leapt into the line as it has always been: fluid, to be bold where the division of the line was independent. It represents a product: French prosody; an

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“National Poetry Month” #6: Sandra Ridley

From “Testamonium”, The Counting House XV. You began with love. Unfailing. Intended invariably. Love always involves a degree of pain. In that. Constancy. The possessor never explicitly admitted or denied. Nor alleviated. The discreet lasts only a moment. Comes vengeful.                                                                                     The morning before.                                                                                                           The decline.                                                                                                                               The spectacle. Your hold on her body shall not entirely

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