Poems

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  • For D, reading poems

    When I was a kid, only a flu could buy me
  • The Next Life and Windpowered

    Sea fog drifting through the pines—
  • A History of Mirrors

    We’ve accidentally collided with something real tonight
  • Delilah Miklave

    You think that you know baptism
  • A Brief Portfolio

    Our first time at the Sistine Chapel, prior to the restoration, the colors were dulled,
  • 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,

  • SHINE, NOT BURN

    Just at that point