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Poems

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  • Loosestrife

    The cities changed hands. In the course

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

    On what might be called a street,

  • Oj Golube, Moj Golube

    I was born to pigeons cooing.

  • Kabuki

    A widow in Mississippi kept them in glass cases,

  • A SHOUT FROM THE DARK

    If like a Buddhist I accepted the world

  • Autobiography and Primo

    long before I wanted a drink     I wanted a drink     and it’s been

  • Paean for the Players

    The pale actor’s mouth

  • The Big Blow

    After the snow-soused April gale I wandered

  • St. Rose of Lima

    Lips weary with chapped hallelujahs,

  • JANUARY

    This longing for him the choke in my throat again —

  • Hymn of the Squirrels, Echidna Tremens and Singled Out

    Not an issue of ‘variety’, of red, brown, grey and black,

  • False Darkness

    I need the sun to be setting