I will take the sun/in my mouth/and leap into/the ripe air/alive with closed eyes/to dash/against darkness/in the sleeping curves/of my body
Fiction from Tibet’s Blo bzang.
Poetry by Max Reif.
He went and took up with a Salvation Army band girl who played dirty water on a swordfishtrombone. He went to sleep at the bottom of Tenkiller lake and he said “gee, but it’s great to be home”
Poetry cycle by Andrew Hamlin.