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Cuttlefish Bones

trans. Italian Jonathan Galassi Don't ask us for the word to frame our shapeless spirit on all sides, and blaze it in letters of fire, to shine like a lost crocus in a dusty plain. Ah, the man who walks secure, a friend to others and himself, uncaring that high summer prints his shadow on…

Skeletons

trans. Czech David Young and author Those who were greening, they shall be turned to snow. Those who were about to fly shall fall asleep in the tar pits      like the wolves of La Brea. Those who called out shall be turned to an exclamation point      at the end of a declaratory sentence      never spoken….

To Lubomierz

His father had died at Auschwitz in July of 1969, quite probably the only Jew to have done so in twenty-four years and unquestionably the only one who'd been flown from there from what seemed like halfway round the world to begin his trip to dust in the quiet earth of Mosstown. Not to mention…

Unfinished Business

trans. Italian Ruth Feldman Sir, starting next month Please accept my resignation And, if necessary, find a replacement for me. I leave a lot of uncompleted work, Whether from laziness or practical difficulties. I should have said something to someone, But no longer know what or to whom: I have forgotten. I should have given…

Spacetime

When I grow up and you get small, then — (In Kaluza's theory the fifth dimension is represented as a circle associated with every point in spacetime)      —then when I die, I'll never be alive again?            Never. Never never?            Never never. Yes, but never never never?            No . . . not never…

The Darkness of Love

the darkness of love, in whose sweating memory all error is forced. – Amiri Baraka   DAY 1 When Handle woke at ten in the morning, he got up and walked to the far window. Hungover, he half expected the sound of traffic or the fading drone of an airliner as he lifted the window….

Chess I

Only my enemy for all time, The abominable black queen, Has had nerve equal to mine In helpin her inept king. Inept and cowardly mine too — that's understood: From the very start he's crouched Behind his row of plucky pawns, Then fled across the chessboard, Askew, ridiculous, with little stumbling steps. Battles are not…

To Be A Poet

trans. Czech Ewald Osers Life taught me long ago that music and poetry are the most beautiful things on earth that life can give us. Except for love, of course. In an old textbook, published by the Imperial Printing House in the year of Vrchlicky's death, I looked up the section on poetics and poetic…

Contributors’ Notes

MASTHEAD Directors DeWitt Henry Peter O'Malley Coordinating Editors for This Issue James Alan McPherson DeWitt Henry Managing Editor Susannah Lee Editorial Assistant Eileen Pollack CONTRIBUTORS Gina Berriault's novels, Conference of Victims and The Son are being reissued by North Point Press, which has also published The Infinite Passion of Expectation: Twenty-five Stories and a new…