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Poems

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  • Two poems by Adélia Prado (from Miserere) translated from Brazilian Portuguese by Ellen Doré Watson

    On what might be called a street,

  • Rubbish Heap translated by Sasha Dugdale

    I haven’t the strength to sing of you, resplendent rubbish heap!

  • Language Is a Form of Walking, Even at Age of 87 and Three, in One Story

    At 30, she learns to rewrite herself in a phonetic language,

  • Mindfulness Training in La Jolla

    That summer of Pokémon-go,

  • Embraced

    I have visited an ancient redwood and heard it creak

  • Rome/Glasgow: Early March

    Our favorite time to visit—cool air for all-day walking, in

  • Crow Poison

    stumbled drunkenly

  • Three Poems

    Resingeing his right palm each take,

  • To a Soldier in Ukraine

    A soldier must know three things—

  • I open the windows.

    What I wanted

  • Strange     that Penelope

    does not question or pray in a selfish manner

  • ABC Minors

    Painted in oils on wood, the entire composition