iPoem Now there are mini-moons, I read, primordial crumbs. Or rather there always were but now our instruments are sensitive enough to register. It probably means I’m dead. […]

WHATEVER ELSE, THE PROGNOSIS IS NOT TOO GRIM – THE POETRY OF JIM MOORE by Dion O’Reilly Whatever Else Whatever else, the little smile on the face of the woman […]

After twelve years of the Recovering Words poetry blog I wanted to introduce other voices to this conversation.  To have other poets and readers of poetry share with me and […]

Daybreak Over the tall ashen wall, between the sound of vegetables being chopped daybreak is bound and severed dissipated by a paralysis of spirit What is the difference between the […]