Caballo de Letras

I love the sound of the bone against the plate and the fortress-like look of it lying before me in a moat of risotto, the meat soft as the l...

OUT of a cell into this darkened space— The end at twenty-five! My tongue could not speak what stirred within me, And the village thought m...

I ask them to take a poem and hold it up to the light like a color slide or press an ear against its hive. I say drop a mouse into a poem a...