You are outside life, you are above life

Some nights in the house by the river, I walked out

into a collective dream of home—an overstory

          overlooking a body of water

Anne Packard




Clarita Beyer

the sky inside her eyes, chlorine and glass.

          I tithe to the darkness and I’m glad for the dark

two hours where I undo her, where I remember the eye

          I indulged, the opposite of sacrifice, the lamb’s throat

uncut, the woolly body kindled in the green

          like a dream of Lorca’s, betrayed in the telling.

the sky a paper life.

          when I came back and found her bound in the sheets,

the opposite of spectacle, not absorbing the gaze but

          giving off light like night water, giving back the gorgeous

I had inscribed there, a fallen form...

Heather Horton


Maurizio Quarello




Fernand Khnopff

Finally the whole body

          The sky a gray whale, the sky magnanimous and cruel.

and not just its parts, wants to be unloved, beginning

          The sky Purgatory Road, the sky a god mouth, a crow.

rick amor






Vitaliy Mashchenko




Katarzyna Celek

feral and essential, like a language lost, like night

          illuminated by the night.

the sky six-thirty darkening.

a mirror of her hair—fixed or deranged

          Sky of correspondences, the color of G minor, the taste of gray.

She thought, from the audience: I should be up there.

Franz Sedlacek

The sky orchestra and karma, the sky Gold Bought and Sold.

The windows of the house I won’t live in held light
Eoin Mc Hugh