Editor’s Note: Vestiges_06: Aporia
Pédaler dans la semoule. To wade, to lose means, to lose the thread of our words. My feet pace, march in place, tap to torrents on the treadle. There is no limb that moves in revolution. Assimilating the hands that kneaded the sauerkraut and cancoillotte. I needed, have need of you. In wait, what trodden... Read More
Three Poems by Ghérasim Luca, trans. from French by Austin Carder
love torrent emptiness chair / the empty chair / the torrential and empty chair suspended in meta-emptiness / the meta-chair is suspended by the torrential rope of meta-emptiness... Read More
Six Poems from Enter Ghost by Genya Turovskaya
I can’t will you out of / the latticed net of the willow’s umbrage / I will leave you there / beating the drum / of a furious grief... Read More
Excerpt from No Material by Losarc Raal
Times will change the cobalt heaven tongues. I walk people into water past the hippo lights. Black model railroad track. Doctor of the upper wake plea. My heart is hollow; my skin waives tears... Read More
I Am From the Last Country I Am From by Jack Jung
A double negative / Is an erasure back to square one / On the cadence hitherto ripped from sources / Once well-known... Read More
Editor’s Note: Vestiges_05: Lacunae
I return from a long absence, I return abundantly to the betrayal of words. The treason of my flights resumes as I announce myself a runaway, delighting in the gap of transit, the blush of ended encounters... Read More
Moon Valley by Gaby Williams
The world was right where I wanted / But I chose not to live there / I am going beyond beauty / Here’s the address: / The sun is setting / It’s seven o’clock / and summer is coming soon... Read More
Three Poems by Elizabeth Robinson
The hereafter is not without / pain because / its mute claim is upon us. / Smell of pelt, yearning in / a creature, / no heart but a pulpy bell / that refuses to move as we / diverge from its / yearning unrung... Read More
Six Poems by Christine Shan Shan Hou
A tongue is not a limb / but an escape route / Into the arena of tiny decisions / Where an opportunity / Presents itself in the form of a five-pointed star / Lone pawn overlooking pond of crooked pawns / Everything that happens within a lifetime becomes / Less new by the hour... Read More
My Glamorous Box by Vi Khi Nao
In Vegas, I live in a box. In a beautiful box for 4.5 months. And, it looks like this: / Where the light is miraculous. / There are radiations in my winter. My summer is skydiving. / I have been waking up in a cloud of fog. This weightlessness that is filled with liquid deterrent... Read More