by Stephen Dunn
Last night on Chestnut Neck Road, vandals
used baseball bats on the mailboxes,
selectively it seemed, and our house
was broken into while our old, deaf dog
guarded his sleepfulness.
by Paul Zimmer
Snow came as fleecy powdering
Then began to spit and multiply,
Driving down hard across our town
To mount deep, benumbing drifts
In the streets and over houses.
by Rebecca McClanahan
If time was not only eternal, but infinite and circular as well, then it was possible that I had always existed; that I would never die; that I might be older than my grandmother; and that my own father, who was flying a mission in Vietnam, had yet to be born.
by Mark Drew
Pinioned and fluttering,
I breathe gasoline and antifreeze.
I leak blood. My teeth are lost
among the cubes of safety glass
spangling the dash. A crowd gathers.
Where are my assistants?
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