For DM

Elizabeth places sublimity on
Fact, off-putting in-her distress

the fiddle band of Fred
the phrase hawk

– the great joyful mysterious thing. John “worn been bled
man” is, under the dancer, a Mandelstam. In 1938, the club.

For LJK

Italian hope-survival during life as matchmakers might combine two centuries later. Hence, fishing (yes!) in a temporary rain can make one feel like separate clauses in a

Russian poem.
Modern ditties Canadian: rumour, commercial media, looks, immense significance wicked and
free through the sound of that rain

widening deep-enough.

For TE

Only one kinship of
geogra-makers who
circulate.
That chamber which gives us “cycladic”
certainty is wonder-frail and as you are
drinking
between the gods it is
warning, a reading of
rises and falls distilled from
sorrow
of this.

There is no measure of “prey.” “rain,” “today,”
“covenants” – and power: to dishtil is to come to terms

with rhythm.

For BD

“A familiar of today’s students
recondite though he imagines
wonderful
humanity.” The
certain grasp of apparatus
“s/z” cells
coda
when a

point changes
into an extraordinary poem exemplified by
living.

Thus function is a fever,
not temperament; he has strength
that gives us science (a kind of proof) as a meta-state of empathy,
with each
metrical

unknown future.

For JW

Here’s the setting here the desire
to a drip
colours,
the process of
the
last few years,
wandering’s
translating
the specifics, the
mix.

Overall,
entering
“bare plum” is
wending,
contradictory like great Danubian whirlpools, something
reaching.

The innocent reads German in footsteps,
material which I myself cast inadvertent
around
a clearing.

For KL

His mind is a rainbow of
you, valley of
symbolic
trickle, legs disappearing
across time

original
but
still
out of its soil – distance plays with
104 symphonies.

In the “silence”
you make, most break.

For TV(b)

His head is not
his visit
he has begun
what all continued contact takes
intact.

“Far from kingdoms,”
wall of paper
universe of language bare plum of
yourself, time.

For our histories, are similarly
measured, metrical, the search for
the 10th century, fecund
“grounding” that we could for each of us feel whole.

For DK

Auxesis is a willingness to
reinforce the verse through
complexity extraordinary written in shorthand
like Orpheus,
like
free verse
species evident from the simile
words: tortured cadence and idiom
in literary Pope’s Homer.


The
low sun lines the Danube,
passes by and, yes, lines are not really
difficult to see.

For PP

Patrizia has everything to do she can never play still for movement
creates life’s potential and the diminutive
believe their
hunger,
creating. Notice gesture
carried out above question
without commas and poetic terms,
works perfectly being
as a whole

in one.



So far,
getting now
here.

For SO

Confusing life’s harshness through analogy, mixing
only two poems our identity and lable pretensions
of time preserved:
fragmentary upon silence.

At finally
memorable ours grief now
deems us.

Authors
common
come immediately to
curse
translation

that uses a more impressive word in pro-verbal
pattern, banal lines
men will renounce.

Instead, he honours meaning in the world, in Toronto and, especially, being preserved.

For ST

There are directions
with whom we
lilt strongly up, call it
celebration
(in both senses) for a
quasi-miraculous
fundamental myth
permanent writing
that when we read has sparingly
introduced poetry.

In that way, in the poem and in the
fox’s burrow, we invent.

Words, liquid,

worship.

For MV(b)

“Come,
passer of genes,” confirm
my worthy works.
Daddy,
who began as an actor, admits
it’s easier to
expect performance
even in poetry, even if the poem is cut down to size. But the speaker
turns

almost stops the gesture with amputation;
eschews
calling it an idol, his art
tragic a means self-haloed with all its wrong. The strength eventually becomes creative our hands another language – silence, distance, no longer speech
that the gods take pity on him or poetry, we steel new generations.

For CC

We see
ash, ochre,
suffering and

common values
laid waste,
a Teflon fantasy
also frequently lethal.
During
we are
much fun unusual
prized.
As if your
appendix husband’s
implicit economy and
pride suits traveling
away from the core of
known moments with relentless forward

rhythm to another time,
young again.


It is his turning away
that seems to be the
opening you –
music after
monosyllables in the

“anti-poem” very possibly imagined.

Nothing happened
no
fears.

For AW

The kernel of shadow is said to create
emotional correlations
of the terrain beset with buoyant
adjectival padding
and painting’s lines of song.
If poetry is pentameter,
it is the poem’s
ambiguities that thread visually imbued
circumstances: the
unintelligible rebuke. The fire does not even
heart attack a person
of cultural topics, out-loud speaking abstractions.

What an
element of hyperbolic being brought vividly to
our ears, this language, the task.

Furthermore, a parable



is, in reality, a
song:
the verbal rupture, creature


signifying more than one thing.

For VC-S

We come from
conversation no conclusion not frivolous;
writing a standpoint. One
common vision maintains Rilke’s tenderness moving
singing from the outset
down to the children
to the poet’s gift.
You have to slow down beloved,
but not far from the poem of your own.
English like rain, soon turns
into the ocean

but something closer
with time. By
now close they’re
beautiful out in the
fish,
after all, and two letters,
days.

For OD

One, against conventions,
makes the way the staying.
And the comfort lovelorn
with the past,
but not a tragic game, not hers; she dis-
rupted


the first divorce of
body
and the

biographical
moment.
This serves all creatures with the feeling of sheer, equally
great desolation, honed according to the praise of poetics.


By anti-poem she wrote for praise.

For LM

This lyric unable to dress
suburban America –
observing a
hawk,
forests,



the exclamation
of all




the woman’s

questions, reflecting
words, woe
a corner with a voice.


We
purchased
6000 poets
young and yet meaningful.

Every reading is unique.

For VP: an Editor

He watches the person
the confessional extending
away in all sorts of images
wonderful but
passing somehow
memories, and rhythms, grown apart.



Words like recreation of celebration
resemble passion whose fructifying mimics the
sensual frolic created: the dynamic somnambulists

edited by memory.

The vow of urban phenomena contradicts its
forces with the scars and
promise of a landscape of wonders
beguiling on a grand scale.
Our loved river seems just like
our ears even after our eyes read
these questions of the
touch
unlikely.

For GE

The poet has metaphors that light,
unlike the finite lovers in sensation.
The poets stop beauty – they struggle
to understand inevitable loss, and
ancient community.
Not-thinking I walked blithely through the poem three
midnight moment’s
coarse-grained
with consonants:
walking gray manner.

With sudden knowledge
something uncanny
now tells me it is the task of the poet

to touch,

leave the page.

For AM: a Traveler

Just conceptual
doubt refuses to act in the
God and love,
unsentimentality intact.

In more than we do
our mind
who, notwithstanding
simplicity
finds his victim;
trying to make sense of
lost paradises in the scale of
an overture. I wonder
reclusive the roadside regardless of
religious gatherings or famous battlefields.

There is a woman’s dance
still preached today: “arm-linkings” stealthily, repeated the flaring match and
“didst the half of me burn extraordinary with the most limitless, spirit of inside” international controversy. But in the end, her fiercely ordinary dreams do,
before a final flourish face possibility.

For T-L W: A dark night

Two diary entries, diction in parallel.
We must be new translations of two infidelities.
The mother still two “we’s” in both loss and realization
because we are (figuratively) dying
from start to finish: We begin with
tears and poverty, her nose “a weapon.”
We are told
courageous
sentiment,
someone else’s voice, but graduate
discouraged and unknown to her event.
Whether she has contributed feeling to it, she creates body, now gushing, now slowing
joining Daddy, severing eyes and ears;
we thought we were not capable of
needs, wants, to live as a poet. In that way, she re-be-comes
the setting sun,
annihilates
the rules.

For SM and KS

Tavern, midnight and anoraks…

Let me count the haughty gesture zealously
picking up the ranks of a singer
nameless, yet expressed
and, to some degree

melting toward their music.

I can’t help eluding widowhood countless times, but
regardless of the darkness, he wishes he
were published on this earth.

Not-drinking
is destructive, causes
Nazism and
melopeia Revels,


most pressing issues.

For TM and JM

The poem ends stronger and entirely new, roguish with meaning which has a voice
unconventional, MacKenzie laden and mischievous, dominant, artfully diminishing.
The divine sentenced to the fifth line: purpose and phrases like “bitter boroughs
are kept out of our hot little tilt” a fragment likewise unknown,
is known, and we must pass it daring
natural things. This
fox is playing
up.