Current Issue About Editorial Note Archives Submitting Links		Lucien Zell From Threshold Poems Clouds swept over the city like discarded bandages. "I have the will to remain immature forever," so said the Japanese Butoh dancer, immersed in the solitude of knowing each touch is half of a larger touch no one can reach. Rain came, and with it, puddles, and with them, reflections. An upside-down child caught leaping under his own leaping figure vanished with a splash and was free. Next Poem
		All materials on this site are © 2011. No materials may be copied, reposted, or reused without written consent of their creator(s).