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Poems

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  • Two Poems

    I had a teacher in a fiction writing class

  • “Bird or Old Man” translated from Bulgarian by Holly Karapetkova 

    He arrived with a bag full of fog.

  • walls | uncertain

    one morning

  • Winter Morning and Ceci n’est pas un pot

    I can easily imagine someone always doubting before he opened his front door whether

  • Three Poems

    Heat, filthy, gut-sick heat in my city’s cobblestone streets.

  • Letter to My Almost Former House

    It’s true, I’m getting ready to leave you.

  • Charcoal | Medicine and Magazines

    In my brown leather bag:

  • Spoiler Alert

    This all started when Tanya, that wreck of a billionaire

  • Because What Else Could I Do

    I alone in a restaurant

  • The Beautiful Hand

    Not a word.

  • Dead Tree in the Back Yard & Gait

    You aren’t mine. A lot line

  • Post Mortem

    You might not see the bodies in the famous photo