Fanny Howe’s Gone reads like a soul’s travelogue in installments, a turning over of themes,…

I respond to these lines with a No despite the fact that the poem puts no question to me at all.…

It’s all here, compressed into these several poems: Ford’s capacity for a breathlessness that…

And really, there’s no reason to doubt that there could be a secret someone writing such sentences…

There are more drugs than there are ailments to treat. Yoder plays some language games with the…