The hope a mooncalf follows
is sacrifice for slaughter,
and yet the wings of swallows
still skip across the water. 

The Official Website of the Leading Formalist Poet 

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A Tiny Glow

Without the moon or stars to guide his sight, without

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A Warning to Dissidents

Yes, pretty soon now they’ll be at your door. They’ve

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After the Old Masters

The father looks up to the sky or ceiling (beyond

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Cracow at Dawn

1. Beneath the clouds in the corner of my faithless

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© by Leo Yankevich
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