Author: Vishwanath Bite

Pavel Barakhvostov Minsk, Belarus A lonely morning sitting with me on a sill watches clouds roam from the drowsing east at dawn they float past bringing in their rags if not oblivion then still a blizzard meek God in a whisper of your landscapes you are talking to us unaware of time and distance immutable…

L Douglas St Ours Maryland, USA Sometimes I like urban sidewalks and the smell of petrol in the air pandering politicians on the run for fuck off cabbies under the gun circling cuddled lovers huddled for fun past panting painters posing poets rolling marbles off the alleys of the wise plastic people in our database…

–For Stan Plumly David Parsons Montgomery, Texas I have been diving into your heart for weeks now like some lone bear returning to a kill not always directly— meandering through your Meandering through trees that are rivers—branches, alive with Magpies and Blue Jays, many, many Jays, and Spirit Birds taking me to more water, streaming…

Clouds accordion and flash a wet promise, sweat and grime layered on skin, bones collecting thunder. City sidewalks over-ripe with chalked stats, the night thermals steam inside marrow as you press an ice cube to your throat and watch the midnight parade sitting outside café neon, dank cloth on skin waiting for the glimmer robes…