A kind of obsession with the family tree,to the dead,an invitation to spiraldown the Mouth of the Centuries.Like […]
Carlie Hoffman
I have a heart. It is full of horses. My mother’s heart, […]
Give the Lake a Moment to Speak About the Horses ...
We walk the little GroveStreet Park that bleeds into NorthStreet, dirt clouding the cemented path,a few blood-flushed leaves, […]
Grandfather Reading Celan in Middletown, NY by Carlie Hoffman
She lifts them one by one from buckets fishermen brought from Kopavogur–today, brown trout, tomorrow, char–after […]
After by Carlie Hoffman
February, worst month, blooms a flu beneath your skull. You lie still on the mattress and […]