From James Hoch’s poem, “Closure,” in the current issue:In the oldest stories, a snake eats its tail,
a savage peeks his head out of a socketof ruin, a boat returns with no crew,
and death makes us back into ether.There seems no room for other versions.
A couple in the middle of rush hourstep out of their car and leap off a bridge,
only to hit a catwalk a few feet below.