Issue 158

Summer & Fall 2020

Image from House: A Sonnet: A Palinode

Poetry John Sibley Williams Poetry John Sibley Williams

Our Daily Breads

As if she waded through brown rivers [ ] clawed
mountains down to valleys expecting something [ ]

potable, a rivulet of mother tears or lake [ ] of children’s,
as if she abandoned wide-open cage [ ] for cage, swollen

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Poetry John Sibley Williams Poetry John Sibley Williams

The Whole I'm Told We Return To

eventually, // unyoked from wire & // weed, muted to a noun that no

longer // wilds violently // against its box, like horses sleeping

through a barn fire, // like a fire that blackens not // a single rafter or

the dreams of // horses sleeping inside, the words we boys // hurt

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