I had a cough all my life. It stood by my side.
Near dusk, we owe an appropriate fear to the light that may not show on the hilly back of the morning beast. Mother takes our picture at sunset. Her finger pushing and begging that button to hold everything still, appeases us. Thus the wind is captured into an airtight frame, to be developed at will, […]
Mapping Nowhere
There were cities that stood boulder-like in the distance There were cities that I loved There were cities where kites could ease greedily among the buildings There were cities in which no honest man could find a life to suit him There were cities that were paved with little Pandora’s boxes There were cities where […]
Cold War Theory
I was wearing a woman’s bathrobe and galoshes, and had tied a scarf around my waist. I was too conscious of touch, by then, to wear regular clothing. But I needed to talk to Professor Litvak again, so I had to wear something. “Come in,” he said, when I knocked. “Tell me about it.” His […]
Can vei la lauzeta mover
A Translation Bernart de Ventadorn “Can vei la lauzeta mover” I When I see the lark break its wings against a sunbeam, forget itself, and fall from that sweet joy that pierces the heart, O—my own could melt, envying all those I see rejoicing. II Alas—how I hoped to know love, yet how little have […]
On Sunday Morning
I heard the subway pouring out of your mouth. I thought, maybe, it was an early-morning thing, letting sleep spill from your body onto the week-worn floor. I didn’t ask you to reveal this to me, I cling to the milky curtain that lets you stay a hanging portrait. Now I see the clear lines […]
Half is Just Enough to Make Sure You Will Eat another Someday
Enough of this, this mania, and the fear that your body will turn against you. Keep waking up in the empty morning and its thin light, and everything will be the same for the rest of us. This should calm you: that nobody can see the blood that’s been rolling through you, shouting that here […]
Wondering What Makes the Sea Angry During a Storm
The frantic thrust against a worn beach front. The need to fling upwards and the sickening curling under of a mind changing suddenly.
Camouflage (An Excerpt)
Disappointment characterized not the first birth, but the second in the amniotic procession the twins enacted on May 16, 1978. It was the first of many staged productions for the energetic children of withered opera rose Emilia Hemmings. Emilia knew just what she was getting, no surprises for her. Only two months earlier, peering into […]
God Loves the Plagiarist
It was completely dark when they got back to the hotel. The night was warm and the windows wide open. “I’ve decided to give you up,” she said. “Husband?” There was a short silence. “No. He’s out of town.” “Well, look. What’s there to think about? You’d be better off not respecting yourself, but doing […]