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Poems

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  • On Sadness | On Beauty

    I noticed something strange and beautiful about the word “sad.”

  • The Madness of Crowds

    Long thought wrongly to be Turkish for turban

  • “Summer with Monika” translated from Polish by Scotia Gilroy

    we spent the days lying on the hot asphalt, fleeing

  • Squirrel Hour

    The wind goes into the backyard pines,

  • My Lovely Garonne

    Because every tenth poem or so the poet described

  • Seventh Circle

    And after the fight the moment of awakening

  • More Nights Than Days and Turn It Up

    At the end of my street, they cut the trees.

  • Here at the Scene

    How will I tell her particular tale

  • Hungarian Lesson and Snow Rapture

    In Hungary, you know something like the palm of your hand,

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

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

  • Leaving the Big City

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

  • Stages on a Journey Westward

    All the mapmakers in history