a hammock of winter sleep in the armpit of the highway / a log truck raises its voice above the monotone / sound accelerates down the liquid sheet / polyvinyltraffic cones idle in powder’s mouth / a lone pigeon drives the emptiness home Eimear Laffan’s...
Photo by Alexanderphoto7 / Shutterstock.com The unexpected pounce of heat against my face. The evening sun, not even close to setting, blazes off the water. A regatta at Café Regatta cutting like trim scissors into the silk blue sea, flashes of white at their bows....
Photo by Jay Dobkin, CC BY-SA 4.0, via Wikimedia Commons Before I walk you to the train, I have to stoplooking at you for the hour preceding thismoment, in which we are late to the train & you are, therefore, late to your new job, & in thispre-moment, which...
Christkindlesmarkt, Nuremburg, Germany Once upon a snow globe afternoonyou weaved between the streetsbeyond the evergreens. The cool melody of December chimed beneath your feetas you threaded your way into the eveningaccompanied by the blossoming-sweet melody of the...
There is no message to post home,I do not wish you here. Sea and sky framed in snow and stone.No words scribbled on the margins,I’m tired of explaining, translating every emotion. Unprotected veins of ice,stalactites drip, echo, drip,dissolving cliffs to sand, walls...
Wrapped in the fabric of my pink dupatta, Begum Bazaar is the fabled navel in the eye of antiquity. The streets stomach quaintness mutely, like measured gulps of Irani chai. We walk on, moving in a soft-haze of sounds and colors. You propose a game of make-believe. We...
