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Poems

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  • The Good World

    but when I painted the deer

  • In a Field, at Sunset

    When he asked if I still loved him, I didn’t answer

  • For D, reading poems

    When I was a kid, only a flu could buy me

  • January 28 | Basho

    Today it is snowing again and I’m thinking of Borges.

  • Plume

    The old wheelbarrow aimed like a cannon

  • Plait

    When I first knotted my hair against the coming of winter, I had grown tired of playing jacks and didn’t yet find boys

  • Black Apples & Landing

    Dropping to the red earth, these, the night bearing

  • Desire Corners Me in the Quiet

    On the beach, I take self portraits with my eyes closed,

  • CYCLORAMA

    Only with such care could history take form.

  • Human Condition

    The human condition isn’t some grinning

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

    On what might be called a street,

  • From Night, by Ennio Moltedo, translated from Spanish by Marguerite Feitlowitz

    Can we go on like this?