there’s
a woman
screaming
on the radio
a cry
no one
will hear
can you hear
the crackle
of flames
making bright her
husband’s torso
somewhere
in the city
a home too
turns to ash
fire’s awful
whiplash
an alarm
wails away
the moon
the woman hears
a riot
outside
her window
a shutter
& still she sleeps
through the night
broken halo
of light
a ghost & a song
you despise
grows teeth
in the lonely
mirror
Reading by translator Jessica Cuello. (Scroll down to view and listen to the original poem.)
Percival’s song
is an unruly beast
a howling story
I …
Reading by translator Mira Rosenthal
This world, along with several other worlds,
can fit into the outside pocket of my backpack
or in a bag from Switzerland procured
in a shop …
I stood in a room that contained every moment—
it contained Tranströmer, insects, and charcoal
…
/‘pee-see/
1. n. part, fragment, piece: I watch her slice the peeled calabash gourd into tiny windshields. 2. v. agpisi: to cut up, divide: Bonnet-mouth fish fermenting in a …
A writer forgets how to write
when a writer forgets how to see
oneself through words written,
the voice of a poem drives
all night to watch summer
fall into …
