To The Mother Of My Enemy
By Scott Woods
Here how he died: looking up at stars.
every constellation winking out
until only eternity left to mourn.
No angel came down for him.
His mouth … Continue reading→
Reviewed by Scott Woods
As a communal poet experimentalist and an organizer or poetry events for many years, I’ve learned that even when the goal of a public art project is to be open and encompassing of all willing to … Continue reading→
The Editors Write: Scott Woods is a writer who has a way of getting under the skin of culture, and uncovering what is indelibly human there. He doesn’t overly concern himself with conventions. He’s as likely to pull from H.P. … Continue reading→