Rhea Cinna

Rhea Cinna is a poet I really love, her style is just great. Cinna goes from sparse country style to ancient images that conjure up Pound's translations of old Chinese poetry step by step. She has an excellent grasp on any style she wants to use, and unlike most poets, can move between them in one piece. 

Her piece "Anthropomorphic Sweetheart" in Stone Highway issue 2.2, January 2013 here was great too, the opening especially:

Five years to the day you’ve stopped 

being a hunter, book in hand, 

you sit in front of the fireplace, the leopard 

on your lap

Her lines in "Estranged" in Papercuts here that I particularly liked are:
[...]
I’ll tell you about an old summer kitchen
with walls bared, brown and green, anything but stone

colored, the roof caved around the bread oven, and
its tall furnace, built to nest storks that bring good

fortune. [...]
I’ll sing you a river-long poem
and braid lotuses in your hair, build you a hidden pavilion [...]

Her piece "Silk" in Papercuts here is really interesting, a desert moment that felt like a more personal version of Borges stories of the Arab thinkers. I love the kind of evocation of the ancient symbols of the world, in this case I thought of the Berbers right away, with their symbols in blue ink on their faces and skin, and on their walls, handmade pottery and rugs as well.

I loved the lines:
She speaks a dialect carved by wind burning Saharean
shores, breaking grain-waves, ash-melting a smothering
song; dirt beneath her feet, stars clinking [...]
I hide between. I have not told her anything yet,
not of my or her self, of distance and symbols inked
on skin, parchment, letter-fulls of the same desert, [...]