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Poems

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  • From a Bench at MOMA

    Don’t wanna, don’t wanna,

  • From “The Last Letter of My Body”, translated from Russian by Anne O. Fisher

    it’s winter here: the winter rains come, the roses bloom

  • From “Underworlds”

    Hell of an exit,

  • from “From Nothing”

    One note, another, in the parlor’s angled light,

  • Frog Dream in July for Lucio’s Brother

    I am a frog; I can

  • Fret Not

    Opening the door for the first time since

  • Fresco

    We stayed in a monastery cut up into condos, ours with a terrace of dried-up papery roses overlooking Fiesole.

  • FREE VERSE

    Small woods upon an incline

  • Free Descent

    It seemed I had always been kicking

  • Fragments of The Sacrificial World

    Porpoises feed every morning in the shallows

  • Fragment

    The past is a point of departure

  • Fox and Piñata

    I saw my first movie