Love’s tender mercies clear the air, unhinging the gate to practiced longing. Tied to life, you spill into water, deeper than any atmosphere. Pastoral nature has no plastic flowers, no tragic exits, no barges of machinery headed for Kuala Lumpur. You are in it and of it, fleck of star, lip of tulip, smallest cleft… [Read More]
Maxine Chernoff
Word
You are offered a window or widow, a Coptic stance, a bed of lightning, angels scarred by conclusions. All that escapes is matter seeking matter seeking redemption. Under the cover of lawns is summer, a hum of parasols from the pointillist past when the world was picnic and soft intention. You are left to marshal… [Read More]