by Christopher Brookhouse
The end of December was not the easiest time of the year for Noreen to exercise more, but she was trying. She had been snowshoeing for an hour. The last light was thinning from the sky. She was tired. Wind stung her face, numbed her fingers. As she shoed along Pleasant Street, she realized if she could cut across Judge Prior’s property, she would be home in ten minutes instead of twenty.
by Dorothea Tanning
Toward noon, July 1608.
No light, or hardly. Hebetude lay
like a membrane on cobbles
and casseroles, on bread dough
like sin itself
by Bruce Beasley
Go: fraction, fragile, frangible, infringe—
the relatives of refrain, sharers of fracture’s fracturing. To repeat
is to break back. To repeat is to break back.
by Michael Waters
Some half-wit Barnum, amateur Noah,
fashioned an ark—a salvaged, broken barge—
to populate with creatures trapped or bought:
black bear, wolverine, a fox like a flame, . . .
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