Our annual winter support keeps the Rail independent, relevant, and free
It may be that any poem as we read it is only some of the first few spring leaves of the actual poem, whose true unfoldingfrom deepest root to flower to fruit to recreative seedis to be found in its proliferating, uttering of itself in us.
A person sits next to a world of possibilities/leaving the latch unlocked
One likes to dance,/another needs to/tighten her wheel.
You cant hear me/whimper over thumps/on your Bible