As promised, we have the second preview of the new issue. Today's is an excerpt from Alice Bolin's poem.
Antiphon
Think of Buddy Holly by the light of Hanukkah candles.
Think of the doors we drag from the alley like Ach ja
die türen, die schönste türen. Photographs stashed in the breviary:
Mother crying after the house fire We lost the baby blankets.
Think the cavern is my brother. His ribs whistle a tin birdcage.
The movie shows us huddled in lamb-fleece pajamas,
Christmas Eve bunk beds pulsing us. The scene of the lovers:
a mouthful of hair, laundry room bicycle,
fever preserved in vinegar. The church bells are defined
as regret, as the shape of snow.
To read the rest of "Antiphon" as well as the other wonderful poetry, fiction, and nonfiction, pick up a copy of vol. 8, no. 1 or subscribe via our webstore!
No comments:
Post a Comment