In Case the Messiah Comes
In Case the Messiah Comes Split screen city. East doesn’t go West and West doesn’t go East. Occupied neighborhoods, buildings on buildings on dust of history. Ramat Shlomo Haredi new homes with their backside to Shuafat. The Red brick headquarters model of 770 Eastern Parkway rising amid the white stone–in case the Messiah comes and wants to live
Two Poems by George Seferis, translated from modern Greek by Jennifer R. Kellogg
George Seferis, Two Poems, translated from modern Greek by Jennifer R. Kellogg Holy Saturday Tomorrow, the brilliant light of Easter. It will rain, but at least we won’t be in the office. The lambs, in the oven, remind me of a huge nursery. Korce, Albania 5.1.1937 Μεγάλο Σάββατο Αύριο Λαμπρή. Βρέχει αλλά δε
Venn Diagrams
Venn Diagrams X-rays, muons, ultraviolet radiation— X-rays can diagnose fractures in the skull; muons can map spaces inside the pyramids at Giza; ultraviolet radiation kills bacteria in well water—in a Venn diagram, circles overlap. An array of sharpened pencils in a cup; cars parked at a casino; along a trail, small puffballs—these clusters manifest chance; and, pondering three who
Three prose poems by Marie Lundquist translated from Swedish by Malena Mörling
Three prose poems by Marie Lundquist translated from Swedish by Malena Mörling The nights when you practice tenderness, the air like a skin around the words. On top of the crest: the dripping udder, red currant breast, rowanberry blood, and the blush of the apples. The sun is leaping in Leo and Virgo. Such is the month of harvest,
Daniel J. Ayoroa translated from Spanish by Frances Simán and Mihaela Moscaliuc
Daniel J. Ayoroa translated from Spanish by Frances Simán and Mihaela Moscaliuc Ada Byron It can be said that the first weaves algebraic drawings, just as Jacquard’s loom weaves flowers and leaves. Ada Byron I Through a network of windows I discover that Ada Byron (daughter of Lord Byron) devised the first computer algorithm.
Three Poems
Typos Word instead of wood but, sodden, it smoked when it burned. I wrote god for good who was, once–– in my childhood years, crowned with the nimbus of that capital G–– but now tends to be a placeholder for nightmare, tears. Seeking solace in the pastoral, but grove came out as grave and the lymph nodes, irradiated, naked
