by Adeline Macdonald Clean steam iron the linen sheets, white and crisp and beautiful and without fault or fold White walls upon white walls with nothing to upset you or hurt you or make you cry or want to leave or want to think Do you love it? Is it…
by Carl Auerbach I would like to write a poem, Fidel, that would serve your revolution, but I find myself unable. All that I can do, Fidel, is to write a poem about how I try to write a poem that would serve your revolution. In the first verse I…