Inside our progressively disposable culture, poetry waves the flag of permanence. It musters memory in opposition to the onslaughts of ephemera.C. Michael Curtis, a senior editor with the Atlantic Month to month, claimed he considers Epoch "one of many leading literary Publications in the nation with regard to the steady high-quality on the composi
Black is the colour of my minor brother’s head, the grey streaks in my mother’s hair. Black is the colour of my yellow cousin’s smile, the scards on my neighbor’s wrinkled facial area……we go to meet the realization of makers understanding who we are …recognizing ways to Reside, and what lifestyle is… …we must spin by our seventh a
Black is the colour of my little brother’s mind, the grey streaks in my mother’s hair. Black is the colour of my yellow cousin’s smile, the scards on my neighbor’s wrinkled deal with…is a means of saying the truth that hurts that has a laugh, a means of capping on (shutting up) someone. Acquiring even conversing bout individuals’s mamma