Poetry of Gonzalinho da Costa

WAITING The sky is clarity, The wind, perfume, You, a comely valley In a sunlit room. The sun arranges flowers Along a wi...

Afternoon has lost its fierceness… Afternoon has lost its fierceness like the death of summer grass, dry and crackling underfoot. ...

IS THERE NO BALM IN GILEAD? “You’re allergic to coffee,” the specialist says. I had been wondering about those skin rashes—rosea...

SOLITUDE If a jar of wine is left in place a long time, the wine in it becomes clear, settled, and fragrant. …So you, too, should st...

THE DAY LABORER Fraying at the brim, A hat with holes Darkens his face, Folded and lined. Beneath long sleeves, Torn and sh...