Tag / trans. by Alex Cigale

Two Poems

It may well be, behind your back – one need only look back – No phyto-mass (Heartwood. And the foliage with its autumn Complement of carotenoids.) Rather, the cinnabars, ochres, umbers, The overlapping shades of chrome’s oxides, But it may well yet come

Two Poems

A ROMANCE   A creature without definite feelings. Better so. On the white-washed verandah, fouled by flies, early morning, with a veined rope in her left hand, she thinks of the senseless spark of the minutes (while the man deliberates

Two Poems

Butchering the Ram   And while traveling the transcendental path of non-violence, Extracting out of the hyperspace the fermentation of kumis, These peoples of the steppe have yet to discover An eschatologically sensitive means of extracting energy from suns.  

The Night Was Born

This night was born in an old and dust-filled pantry, and yesterday’s – in the shadow of a dandelion. But each of them – is a coffee bean consisting of two halves. And into each, night worms make inroads. Not

Four Pieces from Fields In The…

AN OTHER ROSE: FOR HENRI MICHAUX   Ensuite elle fut prise dans l’Opaque* Н. М. There is an other rose – soul of my kith and kin! oh rose – white-hot trumpeting pressing against my longing! –   oh generation