Sep 12, 2016 | Erotic, Gus Stevens, Italian Sonnet, Love, Sonnet
The body delights in its own travail, both teased and tortured by a pulsing strain with claws of pleasure resembling pain. She prophesies but cannot pierce the veil; she approaches but cannot breach the pale. The end she sees and struggles to obtain with breathless...
Sep 2, 2016 | Grief, The Work of Greater Minds
What do people gain from all their labors at which they toil under the sun? Generations come and generations go, but the earth remains forever. The sun rises and the sun sets, and hurries back to where it rises. The wind blows to the south and turns to the north;...
Aug 22, 2016 | Commissioned, Gus Stevens, Quatrains, Songs for the Dead
Being eldest, she always knew the best places to hide for games of hide and seek and where to find the abandoned bird’s nest or the stones you needed to cross the creek with dry shoes. She was strong and fast and brave; she already knew most of the letters and...
Jul 15, 2016 | Alexandrine, Autumn, Erotic, Gus Stevens, Love, Seasons, Spring, Summer, Winter
Look my young fool, born with the Spring’s first green, our morning is all spent and now the afternoon bleeds red in the west. Will you really be so mean as to ignore the pot you set upon the coals? I want you, and the water will be boiling soon. Come, Fool,...
Jul 14, 2016 | Gus Stevens, Humor, Rondel
Back when I was afraid of bees with a fear most grave and sober; I would flinch when they’d flyover, would shrink and beg my mother, “Please let me stay inside away from these!” Whining from May to October. Yes, I was once afraid of bees but now I...
