Poetry
Nixon, John
John Nixon, Jr. In Purple Ink Whoever bottled the blood of violets From which her quill so passionately drank Clearly foresaw his customer's requirements. Did she look at the world through...
...They even have, one notes, a purple smell...
...Did she look at the world through amethystColored binoculars, her irises The hue of melancholy fleurs-de-lis] Her metaphors were bruises, dropping like Intoxicated plums upon the paper...
Vol. 119 • December 1992 • No. 21
