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Poems

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  • Two Poems

    Save forever my words for the taste of a smoke and disaster,

  • Rune

    Not timber or bronze or iridium, not the old habits of species at a waterhole or the short

  • Three Poems

    Fish-shaped, dark brown,

  • Heard in Caravaggio

    The real is offered, unashamed:

  • from The Violet Blood of the Amethyst

    An exceptionally unhappy heart.

  • Powder

    Yesterday I opened your pill box, and there

  • Pip

    Withered pip of a boy, now grey and halt

  • A Provisional Topography | One of the Many Stories of Sounds | Sooner or Later

    On the Weichsel River, before the war. You see

  • When We Make Lifelines, the Universe Breathes a Little Easier

    When night becomes heavy, I break a hole

  • END OF LIFE DISCUSSION

    She speaks for him, her husband’s deepening

  • Three Poems

    I dropped a sprig of laurel into your grave

  • Two Poems translated by Connie Voisine

    Words here carry the scent of snow,