Being of Use

Being of Use by John Bennett I’m not a sports fan. I’m not a history buff. I’m not a religious man or keen on retirement. I don’t accumulate trivia, I don’t collect stamps or exotic feathers. I cut my losses, plan things while appearing to be idle. I wander around with my hands clasped behind […]

Gregory Pardlo wins 2015 Pulitzer Prize for Poetry

On an unabashedly glorious afternoon this week, the poet and essayist Phillip Lopate stood in front of a small group of graduate students in Columbia University’s creative writing program. He took attendance, noting a few absences, before turning to a discussion about the German filmmaker Harun Farocki. But first he singled out a student sitting […]


THE NIGHTSHIFT by Marc Carver I like writing when the rest of the world is dead Three, four in the morning the silence deafens you as those pure thoughts run through your head and once they start they are hard to stop. I used to get them a lot, now less. They always feel like […]

Cows in Mysore

Cows in Mysore by Denis Mair In that district of cow stalls, their haven is a palm-grown promenade. They return at twilight from their routes, alone or in twos and threes They thread their way past intersections, all motorists giving way By day they comb the city, browsing on provender left in baskets Each cow […]


Thanks By W. S. Merwin Listen with the night falling we are saying thank you we are stopping on the bridges to bow from the railings we are running out of the glass rooms with our mouths full of food to look at the sky and say thank you we are standing by the water […]

Gandy Dancer

Gandy Dancer by Dennis Mahagin Sunday morning, and a train makes the sound of one that got away. Heard by a hundred lonely souls in an Idaho town early Sunday morning a freight train makes the sound of church bells swept out to sea, drowned in unison by contralto foghorns begging waves to stay put […]


RADICAL by Hugh Fox Radical sirloin and onions, radical Chardonnet and thrust into deep-sleeping, flowing back into feudalism after the feuds were over, radicals bowels, owls, howls of put up them sails and let’s sail back to Hwaet! We Gardena in geardagum.