Reading New Ohio Review (nor) 8

DEAN YOUNG Bell Tower Now that my heart is about ready, who are all those gracile creatures moving smooth as air around me while I rest on my assistant, the stair railing? I’m thankful not to know a one of them and interrupt their neon-darting need for somewhere else...

The Façade of Orchard Willows

There are days when summer and winter seem to reverse – unwind the flowers. You close the door. Knock as though dead limbs and leftover pollen will answer. You wind your way through the orchard as if you were a ghost. Haunt the underside of trees, unwind their roots....

Cherry Blossoms

Sinful. Your lack of poetry – You. Becoming hollow. I see it coming every Wednesday – you become something – like ancient ruins. like peach trees reflecting in your eyes. As though your skin swallowed sunrise and the stars as though you deserved...

The First Way to Foster Children

I remember how your hands were filled like small wheelbarrows, lacking their legs, lacking days, days filled with poems – * like the one where you find one of your manuscripts in the garbage – you look underneath a box of Krispy Kreme and there is a stack of your...