National Poetry Month #7: Joey Kocur’s Fist
April, according to this poet, is the cruelest month. April, according to these lovers of poetry, is National Poetry Month, and the only cruelty is metaphorical (which isn’t to say T.S. Eliot was being…
April, according to this poet, is the cruelest month. April, according to these lovers of poetry, is National Poetry Month, and the only cruelty is metaphorical (which isn’t to say T.S. Eliot was being…
April, according to this poet, is the cruelest month. April, according to these lovers of poetry, is National Poetry Month, and the only cruelty is metaphorical (which isn’t to say T.S. Eliot was being…
April, according to this poet, is the cruelest month. April, according to these lovers of poetry, is National Poetry Month, and the only cruelty is metaphorical (which isn’t to say T.S. Eliot was being…
April, according to this poet, is the cruelest month. April, according to these lovers of poetry, is National Poetry Month, and the only cruelty is metaphorical (which isn’t to say T.S. Eliot was being…
April, according to this poet, is the cruelest month. April, according to these lovers of poetry, is National Poetry Month, and the only cruelty is metaphorical (which isn’t to say T.S. Eliot was being…
Portrait of the Poet as a Young Man April, according to this poet, is the cruelest month. April, according to these lovers of poetry, is National Poetry Month, and the only cruelty…
April, according to this poet, is the cruelest month. April, according to these lovers of poetry, is National Poetry Month, and the only cruelty is metaphorical (which isn't to say…
Sequestrum, Issue 18 Of course you can, and sometimes should, judge a book (or, in this case, a literary magazine) by its cover. The latest issue of Sequestrum, a journal…
Martha's Vineyard, summer 2016 I'm grateful to Triggerfish, a literary magazine I admire, for publishing two of my poems (and their request for accompanying audio/video, which you can check out,…
Gratitude to Gyroscope for publishing this one (2017). To the ones that got away It wasn’t me, it was you. Accept this affirmation as the tardy alibi of an…