Poem of the Week, by Martin Espada
Who Burns for the Perfection of Paper – MartÃn Espada At sixteen, I worked after high school hours at a printing plant that manufactured legal pads: Yellow paper stacked seven feet high and leaning as I slipped cardboard between the pages, then brushed red glue up and down the stack. No gloves: fingertips required for … Continue reading Poem of the Week, by Martin Espada