Only the Fluttering Sound of Falling Leaves In the end, it’s only the fluttering sound of falling leaves. Starting today, I’ll stop feeling remorseful. Starting today, I’ll stop feeling remorseful […]
Founded in 1977 at Columbia University's School of the Arts
Only the Fluttering Sound of Falling Leaves In the end, it’s only the fluttering sound of falling leaves. Starting today, I’ll stop feeling remorseful. Starting today, I’ll stop feeling remorseful […]
June 24th. —The architect came back. I think of his blueprints. One afternoon I read through the boss’s copy: a true book. Everything is there. Everything we have to […]
bird you grab the end of your girlfriend’s scarf and quickly sniff it when she’s not at the table I pick off the strands of hair caught on her coat when […]
Upon stumbling across this work by Polish poet Leszek Szaruga, translated by the esteemed W.D. Snodgrass and published in our journal in 1995, I felt compelled to keep my own […]
The Lock Fastened to keys and thieves in its fateJust as life is fastened to the bright and degenerate,To forgiveness or silence. Whether it is gold, silver, or bronze,In guarding a […]
Excerpt from The Amphibian, by Geet Chaturvedi, Translated by Anita Gopalan from the Hindi
I came to poetry by way of Pablo Neruda, seeking the poets of my continent for guidance when the Europeans and Americans—the Plaths and Rimbauds and Dantes of the world—encouraged […]
Gertrude Stein said that, “One of the things that is a very interesting thing to know is how you are feeling inside you to the words that are coming out […]
I cut onions and squeeze lemons: I behold the spectacle of the world. “A Poetic State” by Czesław Miłosz, translated from Polish to English by the author and Robert Hass, […]
“eyes” and “houses” by Ana Guadalupe, Translated from the Portuguese by Ananda Lima
7 Don’t count onmy small balconyin this humid weatherthe week’s washdries slowlythere’s no roomfor another sheeteven tricolorI don’t know what soapcould do the jobwashing old flagsis work for washerwomenwidows of […]
To meet up with a manon the other side of the forestis to live out the mystery,Mama explainedwhen I askedwhere she wentat night. The mystery is a young pigeon squawking,begging for […]
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