Granta | The Magazine of New Writing

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we are seen by the world / what must be seen

Nisha Ramayya

‘oh dirty feet blood-clotter / oh grease monkey clod-hopper / oh cloud-devourer spit’

Three Poems

Chus Pato

‘you alone sit down at that table / facing the houses you tried to inhabit’
Translated from the Galician by Erín Moure.

Two Poems

James Tate

‘I wanted to go for a walk, but I was afraid / of missing a phone call.’

Two Poems

Rebecca Tamás

‘that huge cobalt industrial complex eye / how can anything be that big’

In Ballard

Alissa Quart

‘We name stuff and hope / that’s proof. How / reporting works.’

Two Poems

Jana Prikryl

‘his balance / between person and / abstraction’s so stirring I want no other token for anything can happen’