Some Failed Nocturnes for Sylvia Plath
September 12, 2016Hybrid Poetry by Marie Chambers
Verbs begin to spiral from her mouth and coil outward into the sky.
Verbs begin to spiral from her mouth and coil outward into the sky.
When I read liberal commenters damning you with faint praise, I see ugly attitudes about women exposed.
He sent her a touch-and-talk parrot, named Goldswack.
TW takes a break from June to September, when we'll return with the Fall 2016 issue. Happy summer reading—and writing!
I've made most of this up, the apples, the stupidity, the bourbon bought in St. Paul.
later, i'll wonder if looking into the sun makes me crazy, or gives me secret terrible knowledge.
Bruce is reading Wuthering Heights, I’m curling up with Numerical Semigroups.