Shipping containers in Barcelona, Spain. Photo: Rubén Bagüés/Unsplash
Merchant Ships
And then they are fleetswakes,excessesof ships in the night.
Among swells of mistset looseby the mouth of the abys…
Poetry
Photo: Hans Benn/Pixabay Delirica II You speak (while walking) psalmsof flame,a luminous design ofchamber music.The forbidden fruit in your traintempts warriors and far-flung mariners.You speak the m…
Photo: Matt Artz * so many deadtheir eyeballs are filling this vessel gravevesselgravevesselthe earth is a slow fire re: counting the dead: I have a strategy in placeI HAVE A STRATEGY IN PLACE * l…
Photo: Momoko Morita/Pixabay Suitability The typhoon has arrived.Wind force 12.It is merciful. From this city,it has taken only one person away,the one with unkempt hair.The one who wanders all day a…
Photo: Andrew Magill/Flickr The Blind Thread If only I were the rubbing of shoulders in crowded places,the sympathetic applause,the neck that turns to change the view and move a life.If only I were t…
Still from Still Tomorrow (2016), dir. Jian Fan, produced by Youku Tudou, Inc. Crossing Half of China to Sleep with You To sleep with you or to be slept, what’s the difference if there’s any…
Photo: Public Domain Pictures/Pixabay Empty Trains The mornings departand arrive without you.Empty trains.Your spirit flashes now and thenon the hem of a sky foundering in light.Sentences fog the ste…
The cemetery as seen en route to Landes, Canappeville, Eure, France. Photo by Chantal Bizzini Author’s note: With this somewhat old-fashioned title, I actually intended to talk about the…
for Bud ¡Sí, es azul, tiene que ser azul! – José Gorostiza I can’t free myself from my boredomalways completing circlesswallowing myselflike the serpentswallows its tail.I’…
photo: Jason Trbovich/flickr Poetry was created to solve family problems Let me just say:this is why poetry was createdto solve family problems when neededand sometimes to wash the dishes and polish…
Piburger Lake, Austria. Paul Gilmore/Unsplash To an ordinary manWho couldn’t care lessAbout disasters befalling him,To some modest happinessThat this man finds in a bar in wintertimeWithout a fight,T…
photo: palon youth/unsplash We Learned to Pronounce Brooklyn in the Movies we learned to pronounce brooklyn in the moviesto undress in the backseats of carsto await chance with a roll of the dice we…
Photo: Meriç Dağlı/Unsplash Nomenclatures II Those which we are givenin the brink of sorrow,or joy – or both; those marked on our foreheadsthe curse of a generation,or more, marked on our abdomensbi…
photo: chezbeate/pixabay Our dream paths crossand come to nothingburied in heretic fog Impenetrable silenceburns in your eyes Even speakingyo…
photo : randi ward The first time I saw Aleksandur Kristiansen in personWas at the dance hall in the Tórshavn TheatreAt the time I was convinced that poets were some sort of demigodsThat maybe they t…
photo: nathalie jolie/unsplash Two Small Pomegranates If you want a garden to grow lookinside a pomegranate look long look deepat the core there’s a school and a blue girlthey’re a g…
photo: hayley madden The Aunt vanished one autumn. Left the house,the children, the Uncle with his twitching beard.If I wanted her, I searched in photographs:the Aunt, sublime in a Pucci wedding dre…
photo: pixabay Dastgah A wandering musician from afararrives on foot, dusty with the journey,and quietly performs while strollingthe strange city, steps lightly alonethrough crowded…
above Liu Xia prepared her goodbye for her husband, Nobel Prize winner Liu Xiaobo (1955–2017), in a poem and a series of photographs titled The Lonely Planets (courtesy of the author). For m…
[untitled] Vacations in the ice, the London Manifestotransformed into a heap of stupiditiesan ultimatum for the scum, the day moon. Inertia: from theclean shoreto the dirty…
Photo by Eleni Kefala for G. D. It was much easier to tell why it was called the golden grotto than to get into it. . . . It appears to have been used as a cemetery, for rows of tombs have be…
Author note: These poems are part of a longer sequence that Golan and I collaborated on for my new collection, Footnotes in the Order of Disappearance. All the poems are ba…
God Is Burning Through an open wound in God’s left side,springtime enters into the world,sticky, green, with a taste of iron.That’s not the wound I hurt from. There’s a dull pain…
Photo: Daniel Simon [1] this ours that it be a unionof scissors: cutthe hair, the hems, the cord thatfeeds me worry withevery bite, my secret familyline. Cut itas i…
[1] Winter, I have to wake up.The day enters the room. With the leavings of yesterday. The first things that reach my ears, fragments of conversation, unfinished sentences. I lie down…