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 Jonel Abellanosa Time now passes as palomino in summer, In the rainy season roan, always entire, Never jade, balky not just at midlife, Eye-catching musculature between Crupper and hock, withers and pastern, Strength difficult to hamshackle. Decades ago, the tartanilla lumbered, Papa beside me, paying the old man To…
by Jonel Abellanosa Beethoven knew my life Would take this turn and slow, Seeing me leaning for hours Watching window panes turn White from yellow, then gray, Listening again and again To how he emptied the music Of its vast and endless longings. He waited for night’s sacramental Wafer to…