translation


books //


The Garden of the Dead by Marie Lundquist (Ugly Duckling Presse, 2027)

journals //


[Mothers lock themselves in thought. Children stand outside pounding on their…], by Marie Lundquist, forthcoming in Spoon River Poetry Review 

[The dead are spilling out like rapids when I lift the stones up from the ground. I...], by Marie Lundquist, Asymptote, Summer (2025)

[I sit with my gaze chained to the ditch and stare down into mundanity. The old...], by Marie Lundquist, Asymptote, Summer (2025)

[I don’t know anything about turtles and their apathy. I lay my cheek against the shell...], by Marie Lundquist, Asymptote, Summer (2025)

[A beetle can, for example, be made of copper and sunk in vinegar so that it patinates....], by Marie Lundquist, Asymptote, Summer (2025)

[If god exists, he is shut in an atrium like the one inside us, developing a person in the...], by Marie Lundquist, Asymptote, Summer (2025)

[Besides the aspen, there is a certain kind of person who maintains the art of small talk.], by Marie Lundquist, Asymptote, Summer (2025)

[Every time we lay claim to something, we fall into the yarns of loss. Don’t let…], by Marie Lundquist, World Literature Today (2025)

[Death makes me clumsier than usual and I spill my blood out onto the floor and…], by Marie Lundquist, World Literature Today (2025)

[Now, everything is pruned. Not by shears, but by death who climbed around… ], by Marie Lundquist, World Literature Today (2025)

[There are questions so delicate they cannot be asked. I’ve carried the buttercup-…], by Marie Lundquist, World Literature Today (2025)

[Hand, neck, mouth, hair.], by Marie Lundquist, Poetry Northwest, Volume XIX, Issue 2 (2025)