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Poems

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  • Leaving the Big City

    So afterward I sat by the bosphorus blue water and many dazzling

  • Indian River at Dusk

    The first and only time I caught a sheephead

  • What We Work At | Look to the Side

    What we work at

  • A Gaze Hound That Hunteth by the Eye

    It’s not criminal: it isn’t sodomy

  • Yellowphant and Don’t Forget

    The circus so yellow and red stands on two feet,

  • Lamentations

    America    more guns    more    than us

  • Last Poem

    Reader, today

  • True West

    We return by foot from pre-plantation oaks,

  • Antonio Gamoneda, from Book of the Cold (World Poetry Books, May 2022) translated from Spanish by Katherine M. Hedeen and Víctor Rodríguez Núñez

    You smell the wet linens, your acids.

  • THE ABDUCTION | INSIGHT | THE FOUNTAIN

    The falcon, which he’s just bought, at his cheek,

  • Killer

    When he saw me coming

  • Outhouse with Maggots

    Look at us. Please. Do not run away.