Robert Estep

The big angels thwack their batons along the perimeter of Eden. The fortified hot-house steams…

Nature’s classic metaphor: light rain against dark woods. The rain falls aslant. The trees are…

Buried in spring, mounds flower: first winter, desolation the season’s prized import. Strange custom that…

Rising fetlocks of a charging horse. Mane flecks sweat in the rider’s eyes. As in…

Tempest of greenery, stockings, and bourgeois laughing heads. Parenthetical absence of a workday: the lives…

Some twelve hundred miles off the west coast of Africa, on the crater rim of…

A spade strikes the coffin. Up through stale air, spilt glowworms coiling, to wake from…

Benign seasons hinder cusped poverty-aproned buddhas; traipsing saddleless, gay princes gawk, rein sharply in, saint…

Ancient fork gripped left- handed, soul-batterer to send landlubbers back up their hills. The right…

It is not only the globe of her vitreous breast, nor the flashing cubist mirror…