TJ: Do you actually sit down to write a sonnet, ghazal, or villanelle? Or is it a […]
Katharine Johnsen
My father died in 1912, making my younger brother, Paul, the head of our family. He makes […]
When We Dead Awaken by Katharine Johnsen
At this opportunity, Mademoiselle Claudel proposed to me the model of a group, with a genuinely interesting composition […]
L’Âge mûr by Katharine Johnsen
Like the moon, a fraction of myself, once I turned and turned, alone in the room, alone in […]