MARK LEIDNER
Spoonerisms
love of treasure
trove of leisure
Weekly poems, selected by the editors. Featuring new work as well as poems from our rich archives.
love of treasure
trove of leisure
every battle
is lost by someone
In this desert we women take care
of what water may be
There was a lot about plants
breathing, a lot about tending, dirt on skin
trying to find language
behind my facade
of language
forgive me for what my hands forgot
When forced to make
small talk, I drew on what I knew.
that’s the kind of angel I’d be
a ballplayer, like everyone else in heaven
the meadow submits
to cold hands
You know the story before I tell it