arc 30: Serendipity
Cover illustration from a painting by Raquel Sanchez.
Account no. 7118858
Bank Discount, Branch 118 (Neve Avivim)
(Account name: אגודת הסופרים כותבי אנגלית
Following are three extracts from the issue.
Breathing in the Revolution
I am confronted by beautiful women
with bronzed, half-exposed breasts. .
Many are wearing glasses.
They are reading their poems of protests.
But I am not necessarily listening to their words –
as true and elegant as they surely are.
My eyes are focused on the rhythm
of their advancing and retreating bosoms
as they suck in air and breath out sounds,
up and down and in and out they go,
a whole ocean of breathing, tumescent flesh.
Their bosom-shaking verses
declare the glory of life
in a tongue that is all their own.
They heave their fiery words at us –
their obedient, acquiescent audience –
breathing out their words as though they were holy
So, if you ask me if I am for or against the revolution
I will say yes,
Yes, I am all for the revolution.
As evening stepped in,
two horses ran down the street.
It was that kind of gift.
they turned the corner
to the pinker sky.
No one was looking for them.
No one cared.
Only I stared,
stupid in their wake,
catching the wrong person’s eye.
It was under control,
a planned excursion,
traffic rules obeyed,
the riders waiting cheerfully.
unwatched sky tore open
and the night
Some days you
Trains to the city
come and go. Night comes
and the subscriber
cannot answer my call.
Fear rings like that loud lime-green
you left on the floor of your room.
You’re the little girl lost in leaf-fall.
You’re the needle’s eye.
I’m the hands, parting.
I’m the thread, unspooled.
You’re the planet.
I’m the gyre in the lens.
You’re Thumbelina on the edge.
Don’t go yet.
There’s still time
to daughter me.