Translated from the Polish by Agnieszka Pokojska

For the Shadow Council,

FOUR NEW POEMS BY PAT NOLAN

the man speaks languages like they were hors d'oeuvres in a Queens restaurant, when they are in fact clefs to chef d'oeuvres in a masterly corpus litteraire

These are from "Noaptea," (Night), poems by a young Romanian poet. She is worth learning Romanian for.

cutting the throat
utting the throat
tting the throat
ting the throat
ing the throat
ng the throat
g the throat
the throat
he throat
e throat
throat
hroat
roat
oat
at
t

when k ends your name g is not far

man elusive like his magazine

 

Until early this century, Hindus believed that if you crossed the oceans, the “black waters,” by leaving the physical boundaries of India, you would lose your identity and become an outcaste.

There was a time, an ancient time, when books

were made mostly by monks.

 Free Immanuel Kant! says Richard Martin of 40 Searle Road, Boston, MA 02132

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

My lower calves are books of bug bites
I read them and read them with transparent annoyance
penance I think for the day when an angry goddess
poured a pail of soapy water and detergent into a hornets' nest
and destroyed their civilisation just like ours very soon
when we'll sting unknowingly the eyelid of beautiful Terra
with the teensy tear in her asphalt skirt

Chiggers are terrific! They terror into your skin
tiny red flecks of tongue left from your last sexy
and you are multitudinous like a diseased lolly pop
Yes, the giant spider outside of my winder is
she's big as a wallop from a sock of coins
how I pay for staple foods like sack of bread
they call my spider a writing spider because
she doesn't write anything all day and fat
her butt is always up genitals breezing in the air
so she must be a poet I pulled down my tight pants
showed her my bumble bee and she threatened to dance
like a trampoline except her husband is a tiny cuck down
We're slobbering over his desire to be beaten by big big
chiggers have no hierarchy and no despots they do not
watch the text of your leg change into a love story
there are no love stories anymore because everyone
is afraid insects carry disease and no one wants to itch
But itching is terrific! It means sex! It's smiling at me!