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Poems
Contributors
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Translators
Archive
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The Poets and Translators Speak
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Pomade
It has been so long since anyone has touched it
David Keplinger
A Five-Years-Late Note to Jake Adam York
In Chicago, where the light plows over the lake into convention
John A. Nieves
Monk’s Eye, #20
Of all rhythms he found day and night
Cees Nooteboom
Imagined Corners
At the corner where the transept cuts the nave,
Christina Pugh
Closed Eye Vision of Independence Day
Dazzled drunks are bent over with laughter,
William Olsen
FISHERMEN’S VILLAGE | VIA POLITICA
Squinty, salt-dusted windows gaze into the distance.
Luljeta Lleshanaku
Alex Averbuch translated from the Ukrainian by Oksana Maksymchuk and Max Rosochinsky
everything happened as in the early days of creation
Alex Averbuch
When My Son Is Dead 14 Years
These are the years I bargain with God.
Alexis Rhone Fancher
An Invasion
We waited and waited, or by we
Chad Parmenter
Six Makeshift Trees Around My Bathtub
Above our heads a vertical shadow
Samira Negrouche
Cora Goes Birding
This was a bad idea.
Kate Falvey
The Alone-Doors
Don’t try this at home.
Jim Daniels
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