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Patricia Monaghan

Knowing the Bomb So Well

By Patricia Monaghan After the nightly news and four martinis
he quietly begins to draw the inner workings
of the bomb, knowing the explosion needed
Patricia Spears Jones

Autumn, New York, 1999

By Patricia Spears Jones And I am full of worry I wrote to a friend
Worry, she replied about what—love, money, health?
All of them, I wrote back. It’s autumn, the air is clear
Jeff Gundy

Day at the Pond Without Geese

By Jeff Gundy A good day for late wildflowers--daisies and burrs
leaned out into the path for a better view, brilliant
blue somethings with tiny blooms on tall stalks.
Heather Davis

29 Men

By Heather Davis The lights in your home channel 29 men, their
soot stained clothes, last breaths, crystalline sweat
let loose on black rock
Gregory Pardlo

Antebellum

By Gregory Pardlo Unfinished, the road turns off the fill
from the gulf coast, tracing the bay, to follow
the inland waterway.
Jody Bolz

Mutanabbi Street

By Jody Bolz Pages flit above the ruined bookstalls.
Blank or dark with words, it doesn’t matter:
paper is as dangerous as ink—as thought.
Randall Horton

Note from a Prodigal Son III

By Randall Horton The gavel
The splintered body
The red-neck guards
Philip Metres

For the Fifty (Who Formed PEACE With Their Bodies)

By Philip Metres In the green beginning,
in the morning mist,
they emerge from their chrysalis
Remica L. Bingham

Final Exam Administration

By Remica L. Bingham I enter to find all the students in uniform
occupying a small room.
Martín Espada

The Republic of Poetry

By Martín Espada In the republic of poetry,
a train full of poets
rolls south in the rain
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