Too much poetry about poetry. Is poetry really so gooey a thing that it needs to self-reflect half the time? Sure, poetry is naturally malleable, but is the nature of a poem really such a heavy mystery? Maybe if poetr…

all over the common room, you see sleek monitors, four, no, five, caleb has two screens no, seven if you count the laptops, all glistening cores of life, sprouting vines of electricity and ethernet, which climb t…

You are what you eat, and so am I: picked-through heaps of books: Some of the covers shimmer with the fullness bestowed with the turn of the final page; others rebuke me, their colors still gaunt. Every lighted patch o…