riots and/or poetics [10/2019]

TRILCE XXVII    That flood frightens me, / good memory, strong sir, implacable / cruel sweetness. It frightens me. / This house does me complete good, complete / place for this not knowing where to be. // Let’s not go in. It frightens me, this favour / of returning by minutes, by blown up bridges. / I’m not going ahead, sweet sir, / brave memory, sad / singing skeleton. // What content, of this haunted house, / gives me deaths by mercury, and blocks / with lead my conduits / to sheer reality. // The flood that doesn’t know how…

Raúl Zurita | The Sea

  Strange baits rain from the sky. Surprising bait falls upon the sea. Down below the ocean, up above unusual clouds on a clear day. Surprising baits rain on the sea. There was a love raining, there was a clear day that’s raining now on the sea.   They are shadows, bait for fishes. A clear day is raining, a love that was never said. Love, ah yes, love, amazing baits are raining from the sky on the shadow of fishes in the sea.   Clear days fall. Some strange baits with clear days stuck to them, with loves that…

Poems of Protest | Lola Ridge, Wendy Trevino, William Rowe, Juliana Spahr, Tongo Eisen-Martin, Kirill Medvedev

Lola Ridge Red Flag Red flag waving over Spartacus, Red cloth stripped from a gladiator’s loins To flutter in the milk-warm wind along the roads of Capua, Red flag shaken like a bloody hand in the face of kings . . . Red clout stuck on a spoke — There flaunting gay as a red rose pinned On a beggar’s cap in London Town — Or clenched in a maimed hand  . . . A red and a white rose smashed together . . . Red shoots mauled and trodden yet ever sprouting  anew Till the lopped staff blooms again…