Ilya Kaminsky


In each line's strange syllable: she awakes
as a gull, torn
between heaven and earth.

I accept her, stand with her face to face.
--in this dream: she wears her dress
like a sail, runs behind me, stopping

when I stop. She laughs
as a child speaking to herself:
"soul = pain + everything else."

I bend clumsily at the knees
and I quarrel no more,
all I want is a human window

in a house whose roof is my life.

Previously published in Mars Hill Review

Location: San Francisco, California
Publications: The New Republic, American Literary Reivew, etc.
Awards: Ruth Lilly Fellowship from Poetry Magazine, Milton Center Award, writer in residence at Phillips Exeter Academy, etc.
Editor of: In Posse Review

Current | Previous    Submit | Editors    Join | Donate    Links | Contact

Sundress Publications