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Poems

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

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

  • A BAT IN THE HOUSE

    swoops high, webbed little arms for

  • But-cept

    I recall not wanting my oldest son

  • Vita Nova

    Born on the outskirts of the Romanian kingdom

  • THE SECRET OF TIME MEETS A STRANGER

    You look familiar.

  • Phone Call: Lesson in Style and The Story of Civilization

    “Everything feels all swollen and puffy, like my brain

  • Shore

    Not stone, among stones,

  • Against Surrealism | Anima

    The human heart weighs ten ounces, but I don’t know if it can float. I don’t suppose it makes sense to say I feel like

  • White Zinfandel

    Again last night I dreamed the dream called Waiter.

  • Two Poems

    Black, faux-leather cover with gold trim—

  • The Window Light, The Dead Boy Isn’t Dad & The Window Light Again

    Painting around the windowsill

  • from In the Fires of Absence

    Beautiful gelid just-