Bleary-eyed, I walk. The fog rolls thick and heavy. Trees line the path like giant gnarled fingers beckoning. A shrill whistling wind scatters, disorienting. Still, I walk. A stone angel waits in silent consideration. Placing a flower on a heap of dirt, I fall. Featured Download: If you would like a resource to help you…

“U američkim filmovima” Translated From Croatian by Mario Frömml In American movies Russians always get defeated. Guns lurk at every corner. Cowboys are good guys, though may not be. Indians play supporting roles and extras. Except for making wars, or being fought against, no one has been noticing ten million Muslims. Knowledge is useful if…

So if you choose to race a penny off the roof of the Empire State Building but you’re aiming at this particular spot on the street corner where a woman is hailing a taxi and right as it kisses the curb your body plummets through the canopy of the cab, crushing the cabbie and screwing…

Waxwing, he said. / Dad said. / At the window. / In the kitchen. / Mom came running. / My spoon hung / in my Cheerios. / He said it with such urgency. / He was not, / is not, an urgent man. / What is a waxwing? / I thought it was some new…

Casting off in a silver ship. A brittle battle ship. A merry song they hum with stars all in their hair and savage smiles. They dance, how they dance in ancient rhythm beckoning in sweet harmony With fingers like reeds skin transparent like Flowing water. feeding on the rotted flesh of men. licking the blood…

“Zapis” Translated From Croatian by Mario Frömml In the mornings I call my mother. Or in the afternoons, on my way back from the mosque; the scent of blossoms rushes through a crack in my car window. White tree tops line the streets like the kind words I often miss. It dawns Here when Bosnia…

Beautifully occluded  Like you thought that I knew it Inevitably has no louder tone Yet I will my feeling to fact and bemoan veracity as she claws at me. Wanting me to look. Featured Download: If you would like a resource to help you write poetry like this one, Click Here.

And the waitress at IHOPWas so kind When we came in goth and giddyAnd flushed from the snow Extra whipped creamI was eating dirty carrots Out of my pocketWith a hand in my greasy TopknotAnd you said I looked Like the kind of girlWho turns men to deer When they see her bathingIt was one…

I found a rainbow inside you, Mr. Pig, cutting pieces very thin. I put a few slices on white bread where I could see the colors better. Then I ate you— consumed the rainbow, turned it into clouds, like shale, that rain dust and hair. The dust is dandruff— it combusts through the atmosphere. Not…