By Richard Mather (Inspired, in part, by John Milton’s Paradise Lost , Book 5: 108-113) Tonight I am not in my right mind. It was the...

By Richard Mather Dreams like girls in private rooms beckon from windows the souls of sleepers who move shadelike through night’s dark...

A minute before midnight, the owl of Minerva watches today grow fat behind time’s horizon. At twelve he blinks. One eye for the night of...

By Richard Mather Blood, tears, a vial of sea salt, dice, cards, a postcard from Venice. Magic is time and space. Magic is the space...