Man Stands Outside the World
Perched not so high,in squatty crouched gargoyleposition.
Man stands outside the worldand I am that man.
Rubbing a morning’s dewfrom gushing goldfingers.
A...
What’s Left of My Grandmother’s Signature
In her room at Poet’s Walkher first name begins witha cursive J elegantlycompleting itself on the wall,
resting in suspended...
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...
art opening
instead of a gun
you use a camera
amputees
are your subject
/these poor people/ you say
the walls of the gallery are dark
prints pinned neatly under spotlight
//life...
LACUNA
Another sun unfurlsover chewing gumcanyons, long gnawedby your foothold.
A corpus colossus,hippocamping: you couchin fault lines, hammockedwhite matter.
Stroke mewith each toss-turn —a neuron-starved bender.
Hypoxia will...
