from The Abandoned Poems


                    Balocchi di grazia sì, fiori d'arancio
                                                     —Amelia Rosselli

The isn't
division. Work ethic of hollyhocks,

indolent, redolent
counts as similar to this yard

the smell of you

is all you ever were
small girl biting

her way into a story
biting her way

through her soft yellow voice
to save what's worth saving:

under clouds

of paper. Any night
coming, I'll feel you

up and
right through that door.

After Louise Mathias


The poet no longer dreams of her coming breakfast. Inspiration waits
in the caves at the heart of the mountain. She pulls the mountain
of heaven and earth around her but no longer sleeps
soundly. This routine is old. She's weary of the sublime hunger,
the swarms of melody, the eggs over easy.

After Robert Richman

Ekleksographia #2

July, 2009


Barry Schwabsky

Barry Schwabsky is an American poet and art critic living in London. His new collection is Book Left Open in the Rain (Black Square Editions/The Brooklyn Rail). The two poems published here are from a new project for which he has asked fellow poets to give him their abandoned poems to finish.