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Poems

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  • I’ve Lived Long with the Dead | The Word Stays Here

    I’ve lived long with the dead. I know their

  • New Home

    This house has no prehistory,

  • Two Poems

    My old man praised himself for not being

  • Ars Polis

    way too human too fast way too boring too quick

  • Dawn Without Sun & Mist Gently Smothers Sight

    Dawn without sun

  • Nocturne

    Last night a barred owl swept across the road,

  • A Brief Portfolio

    A murder of crows wing black vectors across

  • Jukkasjärvi, Sweden | Hämeenkyrö, Finland

    It flew like a little bird

  • Poem by Zuzanna Ginczanka (1917-1945) translated from Polish by Alex Braslavsky

    There’s now a so-so year for you: 1933—

  • Say You’re Don Giovanni

    Say you’re Don Giovanni Giovanni and you make

  • Untitled

    But here in the city there are signs and crowds in the street

  • Father Enters the Water | Please Mr. Wasp | Ageing

    In life, he would walk into the water slowly until it reached his waist and stand there for a while, his arms out to the