The Taste of the Feeling
‘Shy yet contemptible object / in an unleaking vial collected.’
‘It is not informational, it is / not a blameshift, it is not / all-lives-matter top down and sideways blank.’
Neoterics and the Field
(out of Callimachus)
‘This oven this earth as dust this water we watch vanish and ancient’
we are seen by the world / what must be seen
‘oh dirty feet blood-clotter / oh grease monkey clod-hopper / oh cloud-devourer spit’
‘you alone sit down at that table / facing the houses you tried to inhabit’
Translated from the Galician by Erín Moure.
A Memory Palace for Brothers Who Flew Just Close Enough to the Sun & Created the Storm
Ellah Wakatama Allfrey remembers Binyavanga Wainaina.
‘Just look at those nasty trees flaunt / their leaves, each one a tra-la-la.’
‘The Tanners are like mushrooms: born with every molecule / they’ll ever need.’
‘This had happened once before, / when my life first split / into comfort and pain.’
‘It murmurs beneath the crust of the ground, or a person who serves as the ground you stand on.’
‘The me that was then / follows, watching from the dark / theatre of my skull.’
The Politics of Feeling
‘Everything already is fraying at the edges if not completely gone.’
‘It was fake that your hugs were convulsive / and your furies unpredictable.’ Translated by Cassandra Gillig and Anne Boyer.
‘his balance / between person and / abstraction’s so stirring I want no other token for anything can happen’
Fyodor Denisovich Konstantinov
‘A piece of boxwood, gripped in a vise, / waits on the workbench for his knife.’ Poetry by Lev Ozerov, translated from the Russian by Boris Dralyuk, and introduced by Robert Chandler.