Cut off the Ears of Winter
Cut Off the Ears of WinterCut off the ears of winterthey have overheard too much,where incinerators burn,where rubble-strewn streetsare covered in dust from the remodeling.Again, the doe-man in mauve… More
The Selected Poems of Wang Wei
At Cloud Valley with Huang-fu Yüeh1 Bird-Cry CreekIn our idleness, cinnamon blossoms fall.In night quiet, spring mountains standempty. Moonrise startles mountain birds:here and there, cries in a spring gorge.3… More
Amos Fuller Doesn’t Speak
Amos Fuller Doesn't SpeakAmos Fuller doesn’t speak.He sometimes sits with us when there is room,His stark dinner tray occupying his privatequarter of the table.His khakis are always neat and… More
Forest Clayton
The FanOn my mother’s dresserSits an old brittle photographThat flirts with the fan thatWas bought to soothe pain.Shadows hide behind her curtains;They sneak peeks to see if sheWill ever… More
Days of Our Lives
Military Contractors and financial companies led shares higher yesterday . . .As bombs beat blood out of Palestinian RefugeesIn response to the latest suicide blood oathIn the name of… More
Fried Mushrooms
My mother is the kind of woman/ who buys fried mushrooms/ with her last five dollars/ on the way home/ from a listless day waiting/ for nothing/ at the… More
An Indeterminate SHU
An Indeterminate SHUChilled gusts slice through razor wirecreeping around the window's edgelike ants teeming over breadcrumbs.Rats intrepidly stalk the tier sniffingremnants of tonight's repast. I pay them no heed.I… More
Doing Time
Doing TimeSunday evening Mom and Dad unwind on the couch,her full black hair lays against Dad’s shoulder.The iconic stopwatch fills the screen, the second handsweeps north, folding its final… More
Knowing a Place
You can’t love a place unless you know itreally know it like you were born theremoved there young had time to explorewalk the streets talk to the peopleNew… More
The Dream of the Poem: Hebrew Poetry from Muslim and Christian Spain
SHMU’EL HANAGID(993-1056)The GazelleI’d given everything I own for that gazelle who, rising at night to his harp and flute, saw a cup in my hand and said:“Drink your grape… More