translated by Marilyn Hacker He wants to have The operation but He’s crazy The doctors are Crazy and then Raising her voice to The heavens she told him Never! He just needs simple Cucumber compresses A lot of love Anyway if he dies She’ll kill herself.
I imagine he’s sitting nearby like a Sufi on a roof, hollow-eyed, intense, burning at midnight. Something snaps. He has learned the art of breaking, & being broken. His call is naked as a needle, sharp as images he sorts from afterimages, arranging them like flames. In the pines he…
Is there a print left by the toes upon the umbered surface of the stone on which the farmer’s daughter stepped in the springtime to reach the top of the fence between the cornfield and the water meadow— I would like to have inquired whether somewhere there does not remain the trace of her delicate…
And this time when she asks, The world will end, won’t it? a black river of crows will be rowing out above you, heavy oilcloth of wings working over slanted roofs, dark tents of sycamore. She will tilt her small head skyward. So that watching her, you could almost glimpse the secret greed of time…
Alice is pushing 40, her sprawling hips so sprawled that when she busts out of the White Rabbit’s House, Lewis Carrol has to play handyman, nailing the door and roof back on. Every time she tries to sneak away through the garden, the path flings her back, like a treadmill going too fast. She crushes…
Something’s kept me away, perhaps an all-too-familiar voice laced with paranoia streaming through a phone unhooked from its cradle, dangling in that empty room. Hanging up not an option. Her ashes in an urn for the third straight year and now I wonder how it was I never could get through to her. Yet here…
He wanted a cave. Spoke back to vices out of the alley, where hummers and hearses flashed like a toy gun’s blanks. Coats he lent to children raised by wolves. In a classroom, the uniforms asked him to write his name over and over. Then he auctioned his wife. He wanted a cave they gave…
The idea for moth came when soliciting the moth. Moth? Is there more than one solitary powder? Moth: contiguous end-time pellets precede the grackle supper ring. The idea for elk came when I felt this elk rejecting me. I looked at him and he looked at me but the sensation was missing. It was as…
As were the others realized rather than invented. Diamonds write on glass. François 1er, 16thc. idly etching women are fickle into the pane as he stood gazing out over the river or on water will this diamond ring engender that which changed it, changèd were for: diamond is to ocean what…
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