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Poems

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  • Two Poems

    I didn't know it then, but we were learning Italian...

  • Two Poems

    I could never say anything about my father

  • Two Poems

    Deer sniff red November

  • Two Poems

    the way a kitchen’s dirty washcloth

  • Two Poems

    In a blue wool cape and pearl earrings

  • Two Poems

    A rectangular tray materializes, made

  • Two Poems

    My old man praised himself for not being

  • Two Poems

    Since a long time the parrot had been on Félicité’s mind, because

  • Two Poems

    The sky spills a certain sadness after sunset,

  • Two Poems

    To hunker

  • Two Poems | Kelli Russell Agodon

    When you say no worries what you mean is,

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

    On what might be called a street,