Author: Judith Skillman

The trigger is sensation. The violin’s a dirty animal. I want you to take away the suddenness. Pain up the […]

Herb and spine, The flat-fisted dream Of stars and dew Formed when he walked With his telescope Through grasses spotted […]

When the Cherry Rustles above her head She hardly realizes Why she leaves Her clothes on the rocks, Passes a […]

After they passed beneath us I could tell More would be coming, beneath the sand, Under the bejeweled sky, under […]

Poem by Anne-Marie Derése Je ne sais qui tu caches Sous ton visage inventè, Ton visage volè l’oiseau, Emprisonnè de […]