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Poems

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  • David

    we wait in an arc with flashlights

  • The Last Phonebooth

    The last phone booth on the planet smells

  • A Brief Portfolio

    He’s nowhere now.

  • Guardian Angels Witness More Lives Than Yours

    You are eight years old.

  • Post Mortem

    You might not see the bodies in the famous photo

  • Three prose poems by Marie Lundquist translated from Swedish by Malena Mörling

    Three prose poems by Marie Lundquist translated from Swedish by Malena Mörling   The nights when you practice tenderness, the air like a skin around the words. On top of the crest: the dripping udder, red currant breast, rowanberry blood, and the blush of the apples. The sun is leaping in Leo and Virgo. Such is the month of harvest,

  • Gott im Himmel and The Corner of Bellington Street and Sparta

    Gott was thicket, thorned, glottal,

  • SHINE, NOT BURN

    Just at that point

  • Two Poems

    I could never say anything about my father

  • Repair

    In this, our chapter on enamelware

  • Chaja-Lea Returns

    This is where we were

  • Three Poems

    I gave my mother