I’m going to hop on this poem
let it move like a rhino
leather seat worn beyond years
eye of extinct planet
honk its horn contemporarily
tippity galumph.
Issue I
Survival
each footprint in the snow
is a stroke on the wall—
each move
contemplated
calibrated
painful to all joints—
Three AM
Outside,
the rain whispers—
playing counterpart to the sounds
inside.
Soft tapping of keys
gives birth to ideas, …
This Tab Is Playing Audio
A quiet undercurrent
serves as accompaniment
in searching for placement—
for orphaned words, …
Sunday Morning
Outside,
the church bells
ring;
their chimes cut
through
a gray Whitechapel morning …
Poem by Mohsen Hosseinkhani (Translated from Persian)
1.
which beautiful memory
remains inside us as much as
when our loved ones leave!
which stream will take away
the final tears of our mothers
from our memories? …
By the Beach, Facing Ruin
“Can you come over?” The text across my phone screen lights up faintly within the increasing murkiness of my solitary day. Outside my room window, the city moves at its usual pace. I look at the phone twice, surprised to hear from that person, who I won’t name since there’s a decent chance you’ve heard […]
Poems Lay Scattered in the City Landscape
Poems lay scattered in the city landscape—
lifeless bodies strewn after a blast.
I went picking them one by one—
faceless, headless, decaying trunks.
The ambulance sirens howled on the roads …