They are together, finally, in each other's arms, new lovers joined by the need to be consoled, the need to console.

A world much like our own, mistempered & twi-natured, three-fold purgatorial zone / where Lord Hearsay sits with all his might upon the tallest, narrowest chair, the barstool throne

Burt’s riddles are a clever solution to the problem of how to communicate specific personal experience in a way that maintains a modicum of the universal, a problem she has explored in her criticism.

In this life, I should have been most happy. Nary a care in the world, save for the constant pressure of having to marry the need for a mate with a tune.

Tonight the cicadas are deafening. / Nothing to do but lean into despair / the way one leans into a mirror.

In a series of moving elegies, Richard Jackson remembers four friends who died in the past year: Tomaž Šalamun, Tomas Tranströmer, James Tate, and Aleš Debeljak

Twenty five years ago, when I was still just learning how to write a poem, and trying to locate the deeper sources for the poetry I wanted to write, Thomas McGrath’s example stood as a sign post.  Here was a poet who could write any kind of poem he wanted ...

Usually when poetry turns to the individual and the spirit, it includes love, but Massey lacks even this. There are no accounts of relationships, no “I love her” and “she loves me”. But many other types of relationships are described ...

Definitely, [the one thing that can save America] is not a thing that can be found and grasped or a message to be sent and read. It is more of a process that we can enjoy in all its inconclusiveness."