Boris Dralyuk

Since 2022 or thereabouts, I have found it especially difficult to keep up with the crises breaking out across the world.

The May issue of Poetry magazine featured my little essay on the poetry of nostalgia, in which I characterized myself as being “[m]ore susceptible to the pull of the past than many of those around me.”

The new issue of The Common, a literary journal always worth reading from cover to cover, carries my poem “Legion.”

The Ukrainian émigré Alexander Voloshin arrived in Los Angeles a year before Henri Coulette was born in the city on November 17, 1927.

A little less than a month ago, I posted Dana Gioia’s film about Weldon Kees.

I discovered the mid-century American poet Weldon Kees (1914-1955) quite by chance, which is the best way to discover a poet.

The New Year has always been a merry holiday in my family, even in the worst of times.

A woman recently reached out to me after finding the snippets of my translation of Alexander Voloshin’s Sidetracked: Exile in Hollywood.

This week Paul Dry Books made me a very happy man.

I find it hard to remain cheerful this summer, though I have one or two good reasons to celebrate—not counting the three named Jenny, Nina, and Charlie.