Blonde Hair Hides as much as Killed Stories No one comes over and you imagine yourself some squeaky clean museumwith the floors waxed nightly out...

The Thing about Mornings I’ll never forget We slept Splayed on memorial benches Morning dew falling on locks like overgrown caterpillars Crawling to crystallized captivity Your smile Sunrise evaporating what moisture...

Sea Monster A secret: all the oceans are one oceanAnd the ocean looks the same everywhere.Nevertheless, let us praise the white hour,When the depths disappear...

Neoplasm Sounds like an art movement --Neoclassicism, for example. But this is no art form.This is a biosphere of portentous possibilities. Tubular, twistedand prickly papilla what sculpted youinto...

Translated from the Romanian by Claudia Serea We conclude our celebration of Women in Translation Month this week. Katherine E. Young, Poet Laureate Emerita of...

Translated from the Albanian by Ani Gjika We continue our celebration of Women in Translation Month this week. Katherine E. Young, Poet Laureate Emerita of...

Bourgeon continues its celebration of Women in Translation Month. Rationing In the line a woman shoutsthere’s flour I think of warm biscuits Soon I hearonly rice is leftbut...

co-translated from the Vietnamese by Nancy Arbuthnot and Lê Phạm Lê Editor's note: August is Women in Translation Month. Bourgeon is celebrating by offering the...

Hunger This morning is sickening—                                   the photograph on my...

HUSBAND A handthat reaches out mooring mefrom a night of wind-tossed dreams luring me back to portthis bed our terra firma the heat of his palmthe only thing...