Poetry. "The sky explodes. But the man who supposes / War supposes wrong. No war. A cloud of roses / drifts, pinkly, above the timed and tremendous booms. / Nobody cowers in shuttered rooms. // We got the day off. Now, we take the night off- / and find burns and bruises unfurling beneath the soft / skin of the sky" (from "Work Sonnets"). Some of the poems in this chapbook have appeared in The Agni Review, Another Chicago Magazine, Grand Street, The Paris Review, and Shenandoah.
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