Poetry

Deep Blue

trans. Greek Martin McKinsey The clouds of the deep cast a spell on you Those pale Erinyes of the mistral Igniting the envy of the flesh But when the sun's unravelers laughed Striving for an earthly pride The infinite's coloring was suddenly yours. Now as a I wander the mountainside Across pinecones strewn by a…

An Afternoon

As he writes, without looking at the sea, he feels the tip of his pen begin to tremble. The tide is going out across the shingle. But it isn't that. No, it's because at that moment she chooses to walk into the room without any clothes on. Drowsy, not even sure where she is for…

Violet

Like a coffin in a procession whose corpse leaves A stealthy trickle of violets in its wake While Attica bids it a soft Good evening. Like some harrassed gardener bending down Among the cables and the skinflint stones Without hearing the passion of the bitter-orange When it cloaks itself in wind and beckons with the…

Cadillacs and Poetry

New snow onto old ice last night. Now, errand-bound to town, preoccupied with the mudge in his head, he applied his brakes too fast. And found himself in a big car out of control, moving broadside down the road in the immense stillness of the winter morning. Headed inexorably for the intersection. The things that…

The Garden Was Entering The Sea

The garden was entering the sea Cape of deep carnation Your hand was leaving with the tide Smoothing the sea's bridal gown Your hand was opening the sky. Angels with eleven swords Were sailing alongside your name Slashing through the flowery waves Down below the white sails leaned In quick northeasterly squalls. With the white…

This Morning

This morning was something. A little snow lay on the ground. The sun floated in a clear blue sky. The sea was blue, and blue-green, as far as the eye could see. Scarcely a ripple. Calm. I dressed and went for a walk. Determined not to return until I took in what Nature had to…

Paper Poems (From third Series)

trans. Greek Edmund Keeley Invulnerable body all naked so point-blank naked with the nipples still erect invulnerable to interior or exterior gunfire and that blue triumphant cunning and the wide trowel in hand covering the cement the smile of the second Christ. *     *      * Hidden behind the massive statue of Zeus he waits for the…

Ripe

I can't stand it, he said. What other road? Season of the hungry dogs season of forgetfulness and memory season of disguises season of swindlers season of broken doors. I gave a penny to the blind man I climbed down from the stands stooped over unbuttoned my pants season of no raised flags. *     *     * That…