ARMENIAN POETRY PROJECT

THE FIRST SEA SHELL put to the ear made the earth turn in sea waves carrying me to distant shores I never returned from David Kherd...

This evening's Armenian meal that you cooked with pine nuts and strange spices unknown to me, helped carry me over from the food of m...

While you fidgeted by my side (a strange body beside yours in sleep), you were suddenly tossed into the angry words of your mother: who ...

You say, are you tired; would you like to sleep? And then scouch down and fit yourself beneath my enveloping arm, for you know already th...

We had lunch with white wine and cheese. I brought that; you made the soup. Armenian olives and bread. And the mezas you served in sma...

Father I have your rug. I sit on it now -- not as you did, but on a chair before a table, and write. It is all that is left of Adana, of us,...

We awoke into the night from out of each other's arms. Last night, for the first time, you said you were moved by the arms that held ...

Our trivial fights over spading the vegetable patch, painting the garden fence ochre instead of blue and my resistance to Armenian food ...