Rising from the dead

  The Morning Baking by Carolyn Forche   Grandma, come back, I forgot How much lard for these rolls   Think you can put yourself in the ground Like plain potatoes and grow in Ohio? I am damn sick of getting fat like you   Think you can lie through your Slovak? Tell filthy stories […]


Clothes encounter

Cuba by Paul Muldoon   My eldest sister arrived home that morning In her white muslin evening dress. ‘Who the hell do you think you are Running out to dances in next to nothing? As though we hadn’t enough bother With the world at war, if not at an end.’ My father was pounding the […]


Standing up by sitting down

  Rosa By Rita Dove   How she sat there, the time right inside a place so wrong it was ready.   That trim name with its dream of a bench to rest on. Her sensible coat.   Doing nothing was the doing: the clean flame of her gaze carved by a camera flash.   […]