The Fortune Teller Knows She’ll Never Marry – Josephine Yu
Because she wakes one morning with hands
so swollen even her father’s class ring
can’t be worked over the stiff knuckle.
Descent of the Composer – Airea D. Matthews
When I mention the ravages of now, I mean to say, then.
I mean to say the rough-hewn edges of time and space,
a continuum that folds back on itself in furtive attempts
to witness what was, what is, and what will be. But what
Orthodox Priest – Peter Makuk
Black cassock hiding his feet,
he drifted onto the terrace
of this hillside café with its view
of the Laconian bay full of sunset,
and took me from politics at our table
to dim orthodox churches