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Two poems by Jan Wagner translated from German by David Keplinger
when you are digging in the wardrobe
Jan Wagner
A Lean-to at the End of the Galaxy
You fire a fiction deep into my brain
Jonathan Weinert
Dealing with the Forbidden & How It Begins
I've a talent for throwing things away.
Alice Friman
Six Makeshift Trees Around My Bathtub
Above our heads a vertical shadow
Samira Negrouche
My Heart in Evening
In the evening one hears the sharp shrieks of bats.
Georg Trakl
Sister Dementia Remembers & Phone Booth
Enough of bosom, ass, and pillow—
Nancy Mitchell
Of Weeping
First there is the weeping one weeps when one reads a good poem,
Daniel Bosch
True Bug | I Will Be Good
I’ve been talking to a bug all winter.
Cleopatra Mathis
Wooden Boards
My father carefully rolls his pant leg up, places his leg between two wide boards. He tells my mother to jump hard on
Dzvinia Orlowsky
To Say
There are dead children all over and under this earth
Leslie Harrison
PHAROAH
Whenever we were out on the dance floor, I always looked at your face, while you looked downward, inward, at
Paul Lisicky
Shaft of Light
Smile behind the lips
Hélène Cardona
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