Author: Amy Clampitt

The West Village by then was changing; before long The rundown brownstones at its farthest edge Would have slipped into […]

past parentage or gender Beyond sung vocables The slipped-between The so infinitesimal Fault line A limitless Interiority Beyond the woven […]

A vagueness comes over everything, As though proving color and contour Alike dispensable: the lighthouse Extinct, the islands’ spruce-tips Drunk […]

Nothing’s certain. Crossing, on this longest day, The low-tide-uncovered isthmus, scrambling up The scree-slope of what at high tide Will […]

Daily the cortege of crumpled Defunct cars Goes by by the lasagna- Layered flatbed Truckload: hardtop Reverting to tar smudge, […]

cold nights on the farm, a sock-shod Stove-warmed flatiron slid under The covers, mornings a damascene- Sealed bizarrerie of fernwork […]