Poetry

Homage to Giorgio Morandi

You, of all the masters, have been the secret sharer Of what’s most important,                                             exclusion, Until the form is given us out of what has been given, And never imposed upon, Scrape and erase, scrape and erase                                                          until the object comes clear. I well remember the time I didn’t visit you In Bologna,…

Maelstrom

Wind shook the trees and rain crackled at the windows. Could it have been any other way? Rain coming down, clothes wet, water dripping from our hair? At the window, could it have been a ghost singing its final warning? Clothes wet, water dripping from our hair, he fell on me like rain. I could…

Misunderstanding

translated by G. Wiersma let’s ignore what happened in the past in a place that could be anywhere a lamp flickers between sparks of light in darkness I am precisely etched happiness or suffering just at this moment are indistinguishable

Six Words

yes no maybe sometimes always never Never? Yes. Always? No. Sometimes? Maybe— maybe never sometimes. Yes— no always: always maybe. No— never yes. Sometimes, sometimes (always) yes. Maybe never . . . No, no— sometimes. Never. Always? Maybe. Yes— yes no maybe sometimes always never.

Hunters’ Guild

In the owl’s nest the apprentices sit at the workbench of hunger, jostle and plea and reckless silence, and out in the night —the wind rising, nonce of stars— wings shove aside distance (antipodal stint, fragrance of quicklime), a steeple and moody bronze, spiritual ruckus, loose haft of prayer, lawns stitched with mushrooms, desires and…