Loading...
Loading...
Click here if you don’t see subscription options
Poetry
Chris Anderson
The old woman in ICU wants to rail against the Church.Patriarchy, she says, hierarchy, and I agree.She looks just like my mother.But you’re dying, I say.Why are we talking about this?Why does any of this matter?And the sun slants through the dusty window.My Roman collar chafes.On the monitor,
Poetry
Chris Anderson
Roads lie buried here
Poetry
Chris Anderson

What I saw on the flushed

 

and sweaty face of my son