the circle by the college the red, red wine has seeped into the carpet, too deeply to be sucked up now. no help is on the way. we know...

When We Were Young Each moment was thick,pearled into droplets, not yet thinned.The clink of dishes. The rustle of hymnal pages turning. Dust moteshovering in a sunbeam....

I Saw You Nothing burns alone. Let each face be a flame of itself. Let skin to be amber and silk. Let a bridge join the air from...

Eyelashes My daughter asks where the eyelashshe’s wishing on came from, how dothey grow? I tell her that it’s a kindof death, which is a...

Easter Night After a long sleep, I wake,long after the chill of sunrise services in parks,after high heels sinking into wet grass,after even late morning...

The Twin FawnsAfter Peregrine Honig’s The Twin Fawns In the backroom of this clubmusic so loud you could neverhear the traffic, a drag queen downstairscollecting...

Violent Glamour Cuchulainn, o ancient celtic drag queenstruts her stuff onto the plain, sashays across the battlefieldintent on sowing pain and reaping lumpen carcasseswhich to...

Become Alone, in silence.The multi-glows of childrenpedal in their futures.It dropped.The five-petal ruffled cluster.The earth preservedits importance.Change, though turning,protected in color.World as we need it.What...

Marsha Olitsky is a poet living in Philadelphia. Bourgeon is delighted and honored to provide a home for her first publication. She writes: Growing up...

Do you remember what you told me when you broke the cartilage of my comp notebook, the royal blue one with those speckles, the poems to...