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..:: CONTENTS ::..

   Volume X, Issue I

..:: POETRY ::..


..:: PROSE ::..

..:: ETC ::..
   Contributor's Notes

..:: ARCHIVES ::..
   Volume I, Issue I
   Volume I, Issue II
   Volume II, Issue I
   Volume II, Issue II
   Volume III, Issue I
   Volume III, Issue II
   Volume IV, Issue I
    Volume IV, Issue II
   Volume V, Issue I
    Volume V, Issue II
    Volume VI, Issue I
   Volume VI, Issue II
   Volume VII, Issue I
   Volume VII, Issue II
   Volume VIII, Issue I
    Volume VIII, Issue II
    Volume IX, Issue I
    Volume IX, Issue II

 
Poetry


from There Is No Wayward Palace
Laura Carter

 

How a young woman will turn; that's what verso is for. There were meanings applied to situations. Desert, though, is not always blue; sometimes it is the color of a bronze deer who has arranged a meteor to capture all alternate rays of sun. A day begins. Or perhaps it's that day fades into night, Albert Ayler softly playing in the background, and Zimmerman's name still in air, going only to show that glitter doesn't stay.

 

 

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