Robert Estep

The day before its scheduled demolition he made his way to the small gallery. Across…

"Real, the five bars of the gate standing yet between broken hedges though it bars…

Tonight Antigone works her will upon the newsprint, harped by poison, stung by reprimand, a…

The coffee-colored pig roils its red bed of mud. A line of yellow dots, like…

for Carlos Pellicer Pissing the moonlit snow from blue to gold, imperial owls taloning the…

Gather your sheep, call the dogs off, wake from your dream of Carrero Blanco kibitzing…

In a world of imprecision one can never go entirely wrong. The boy licks his…

for the Acmeists I All news is bad news, the octopus and the ink. Blast…

I Far from the madrigal snout of a Jacobean springtime, the Duchess of Newcastle hums…

From Rosario south, hitchhikers every dozen yards. On the valley floor mist drenched the car…