“the quavering of memory”
night. the white malamute suddenly a moon in the thick rye grass
outside the glass door. her white skull.
her shining mandible. you are the father
of so many old things, so powerful in this moment.
the wind rises; it’s time for the ( Read more... )

you are not the first but to discover yourself hard on the now visible ( Read more... )

they don’t let go, the ripe stew of August ( Read more... )

first you burn your hair, its spider filaments ( Read more... )

They fetter
the heart these
songs of the women
husking rice -
bracelets crinkling
along their
bare arms as they
swing the glistening
rice-paddles -
teasing, tender
now teasing again -
a low-toned “hum”
forced by
exertion from
swaying breasts
underlies the singing
like a drone.

- Yogeshvara There is in the best poems from the Sanskrit a ( Read more... )

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A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z ( Read more... )

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