lost and found on the b train in winter by Walter Bjorkman

i
first heard the rumble, felt the roar, before i was born
in my mother�s own cave, on her doctor�s way
i first saw the white porcelain straps, felt the frayed straw seats
smelled the wet drying wool before i was one year of age

record
snow the christmas eve three months before my birth
then every month thereafter � i rode the rails in that womb
while dirt-crusted plowed snowdrifts piled to

Uncoupling by Jac Jenkins

Ice
clasps its thorny cloak with filigreed

brittle
lace against my breast

bone.
The pin sticks my skin when I inhale.

I
stay close to his mouth;

his
heat breathes an early thaw

as
Winter opens its teeth on my throat.



Spring
stitches my scabs to scars, my scars

to
silver. I am bare beneath bridal lace

and
veil. When I inhale, his hands

clasp
me like whalebone; I stay close

to
the

Some Last Things by Sam Rasnake

So many words to say now he'll never say though

he feels their weight in silence, though he needs

their meanings, he knows he won't find them,



still they bite at his tongue � what he once questioned

he knows for fact, what he once believed, he's long since

forgotten or dreamed away � if you whisper your truths,



they'll disappear, he'd say, so he never whispers them �

and when he