Poems by Erin Moure
A Real Motorcycle
... from AnatoliaA little pedal steel guitarA photograph of her at a table by the sea, ...
The Cold
... Or wet fields the vines or eucalyptus woodLift from, here***Whose cartilage did grief still bear ...
The Chord
... a mortal habitation or cut in airthat air leaks throughhere too***Tricked again out of ...
