Big Spring, Arrow Rock, MO The body records its absences. Water, you take water into it—as presence, as absence, deep into the archive of water you throw your mask. Also, your other mask. We, being matter, are negotiated. I had not thought to be angry, as such. But rage flexes its majestic undoing, its…
And when I awoke, I saw that I was gone. Just like that, the woman I thought I knew, gone into the morning like the mockingbird’s song. After all these years, it was a bit of a surprise, even though I had seen it coming, the way you see a train approaching from afar, crawling…
After Hadrian Go, little sister, Flesh-flap peeled From blistered heel, Yellow pellicle Skimmed with a fork Off scalded milk. Where will you go, How far on wind-whistle To marrow within a creature Not yet born When I become no longer Your bodied brother? Vanishing twin, forever young, No reason to…
Translated by Katherine M. Hedeen and Victor Rodríguez Núñez each morning I wonder at my face: the same as always! Shouldn’t we reach the dawn with face changed? After a new word our lips should have a different feel! Only the beloved manages such a miracle face sheds features before the vision…
—worth it? My soul looks back and wonders how I left behind that tether, which, a burden so long, had become a life more true than my memory of having been without it: a friend saying, “I love you, but not enough,” then never trying toward enough or letting me go. The…
Objects heavy enough to break us hang from the thinnest of threads. A stray breeze and down they come. But they say that spider silk is five times stronger than steel, which might be why spiders look so buff. I know that I wouldn’t want to run into one in a dark alley, or any…
Maybe on the shore of the lake where eagles live and breathe again, swooping over toddlers frightening all, I sought a rock that was flat, one to skip over the calm surface of the water to impress the child. And maybe the rock had fallen from another planet, tumbled, burned itself …
Translated by Ming Di With the key of paintbrush he opens another door; he asks a flower to invite people to a waltz. Light dazzles the dance floor. To the other end of the realm of dreams he captures the poet John Giorno, sleeping. What game is it, what strangeness, that experiences time? What is…
Translated by Heather Green VI what do you know the air has come unstuck from us we are here without stars what do you know without money without fire a sweaty dog in his kennel and rain under the armpits what do you know about it the noise lies and dies with each…
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