Category:Guest Artists


William John Bert

Just as Leah opens her mouth to tell him she’s pregnant, Russell says, “There’s something blue down there.” The canyon rises to Leah’s left and falls on her right. Without her glasses, it offers only immediate, myopic pleasures—scrappy scrub brush,…

Selected Poems

Bert Stern

AMERICA There was a bird I liked, its name was I don’t remember. It skimmed the waves a day from shore. My mother held my head up to the rail, I was too sick to stand. America, she said, this…