There is nothing, then menacing red, then/nothing again.
how can you be lonely/ when the offices lights/ shine into your room from/ across the river.
Ants announce spring from the corners of the house,/their neat swarms quiet and inevitable./The bleeding heart is back.
Is that the way it is/ three stars from a .32 burning/ right down your boulevard.
Forough Farrokhzad was one of Iran's most influential poets. This poem has been translated from Farsi by Sogol Sur.
When my mother said the word divorce in response to my asking where my father was—after she’d said, he won’t be back.
Sharing a title with a painting by Rembrandt, Diane Seuss’ fourth collection is a sensual bricolage of the exalted mixed with the mundane.
The moon pick-axing through the pines, only half mad and only at its own expense.
These haiku by the Japanese poet Suzuki Shizuko were originally published in her first haiku collection, Shunrai, in 1946.
It was madeira, sixty bottles, Washington ordered for his friends their final evening in Philadelphia.
"Nightsong," and "A Song of Heath and Fire," two poems by Jóanes Nielsen translated from Faroese.
I have been trying to liberate the firefly. I have been trying to confirm my humanity.