All posts tagged: poems

Two poems by Luis Muñoz: ‘Love’ and ‘The Moment’s Questions in the Air’

Two poems by Luis Muñoz: ‘Love’ and ‘The Moment’s Questions in the Air’

El Amor Es que pudiera darsesin asomo ningunoni preparaciones. Solo rumbo,horizontetamaño a partirdel corte exactode la ventana. Love Maybe it happenswithout any hintor preparation. Just a heading,a horizonthe size at firstof the precise cutof the window. Las Cuestiones Temporales en el Aire Nos encontramoscon el grafiti plataen un portón del parque:“¿Podemos cambiar?” A la primera respuesta,“no sé”, en un casillero,han añadido otraen rojo cera rápida,que sobresale del contiguo:“Sí-No-Sí”. The Moment’s Questions in the Air We stumble uponthe silver graffition a gatehouse in the park:“Can we change?” In an answer boxto the first response, “IDK,”somebody’s added anotherin quick red crayonthat spills over, into the box beside:“Yes-No-Yes.” Idra Novey is the author, most recently, of Soon and Wholly, a book of poems, and the novel Take What You Need. Garth Greenwell is the author, most recently, of Small Rain. Source link

Lyric poems by Jake Rose: From ‘JOAN’

Lyric poems by Jake Rose: From ‘JOAN’

From JOAN I spent all my loneliness with you herespeaking in turn to the isle of grassthe velvet-eared cattle & the sawgrass spinesas the coin of sun declined each day I closed thegates to the field & tomatoes grew in the darklike the blushing minds of yawning childrenguttered candles spilled their pinebrushed lightand bells spelled out the path to vespersa cold wind blew in blusters upon my spine& I had more thoughts than there were rocks in the riverbut they weren’t heavy to menot yet not yet anything this was Domrémymy squire would say later good luck is like a turned keyhe would also say that fortune eats her children ** young and slumped in the faceless hoursof August heat I would prick my thumb &suck the blood out just to get closer than closenessto some feeling of being beloved in my own bodyinstead of waiting for the stillness that onlycomes in turning dreams swallowingthe spit as if it were the holy water it wasand nothing was painful & everything wasthe sun too hot or …