I no longer believed in the revolution
but what is there for a man to do with his life?
It gave purpose to my wanting to be alone.
The aftermath is two people breathing.
I am used up, a waste gas.
And there are other, worse, symptoms.
Derek Wolcott | The Schooner Flight
Russell Edson | Angels
Terry Ehret | The Author of This Poem Will Grant an Interview
David Roderick | Self-Portrait in 1969 (Summer)
Brian Spears | Hurry
Andrew Feld | Litte Viral Song