To Emily DickinsonandThe MesostomaticPOETRY Is the Thing with SoundPOETRY is the thing with SoundWritten on - some paper -Enhancing our Imagination -Truths of our Maker -We dwell in Possibility -The Poet writes for the Reader -We dwell in Interpretations -Don't reckon each Detail, either -I Dwell in All the Poetry I dwell in all the Poetry -A louder House than Prose -With rhyme upon the floorboards laid -And stanzas for the Rows -Of Metaphors - outrageous -And Similes askew -My ceiling's made of Cloudy LinesThat leak a lofty View -Of Critics - the boldest -For Occupation - Bliss -To fling my...

This poet often flâneurs through the chaotic, dazzling streets of Manhattan, pausing at his MacBook to type out thirty or forty lines of reflection. At times, he retreats into the shadows of an old warehouse or a museum or theater to thoughtfully explore his digital misinterpretations of life's timeless questions-existence, connection, and meaning-always remembering to enjoy his favorite meal along the way...

"All That Jazz" by Marc Bauch is a lavish, lyrical homage to New Orleans-the city where music breathes, history lingers in the humid air, and every street corner hums with the ghosts of forgotten songs. Opening with a reverent dedication to the city's eternal muse, the jazz poems summon the spirit of the Crescent City not as a distant ideal, but as a living, breathing presence steeped in gumbo smoke, spiced night air, and the timeless sway of brass.From the first lines, the book becomes a kind of invocation: lanterns flicker in syncopation, magnolia-scented shadows whisper, and the...