On the Death from Consumption of Anton Chekov in a German Hotel Room, 1904 by Gary Duehr This, or this A telephone’s insistent scratch or a large black moth hammering away at a shutter From the sitting room a champagne cork’s...
Dawn by Joi Haskins Like milk in the mouth, the sky is infantile, each cloud a bubble, each disappearance east and west a corner of the lips; this is a thirsty world, and the ticking is its gurgle. Joi Haskins Joi Haskins is a poet and medical student from...
