Now retired and living in Santa Fe, New Mexico, Henry Taylor taught at Roanoke College, The University of Utah, and American University. With Ed Tedeschi, a Roanoke student, he co-founded Roanoke Review in 1967. Among his six books of poems is The Flying Change, which received the 1986 Pulitzer Prize in Poetry. Listen or read the transcript here.
No Ghosts Allowed
Hannah Martin
The house at the end of the street is on fire. It reminds me of the fireworks the Russo’s next door are always setting off at night. Italian kids lighting Roman candles that hiss up like spacecraft taking off through my bedroom curtains. They cast shadows on my popcorn ceiling and make little faces that stretch and disappear.
Touching Angels
Erin Wilson
I want to live
in a ramshackle shack
that touches—hyper-touches—
air, and have that shanty
startle back
like a child that has lured
and then touched a snake.
To a Tattoo
Emma Aylor
It’s just a line, really, and from the side
appears to be a crimped string, or nothing
much—a bobby pin with twists worked in,
edge of a broken oak, some given crumble—
What’s Not to Like?
James McKee
Doors, because they close;
books, after they end;
spring, while it explodes;
cash, before it spends;