Victoria Redel
BOTTOM LINE
As when my father goes back under
and the doctor comes out to tell us he’s put a window in my father’s heart.
At last! The inscrutable years are over. I’ll look right in
before the glass gets smudged, before he has a chance to buy drapes or slatted blinds.
It will be a picture window; I’ll be a peeping Tom.
Imagine the balcony of secrets, the longings: our future a window box of heart-to-hearts.
Then he’s awake, calling for morphine,
his pain greater than from the first surgery.
On the next rounds the doctor clarifies:
the window’s really more like a gutter so built-up fluids can drain.
And I remember my father on a ladder
pulling down leaves and rot, each year saying, Do I need this kind of trouble?
Saying, A new roof? You think I’m made of money?
Draw the shades. Let him rest. Let me sit beside my father in the dark.
* *
Image: Marisela LaGrave
[ + bar ]
After Kenneth Goldsmith: an interview
Michael Romano and Kenneth Goldsmith
I.
I have a bunch of questions but they’re still pretty disorganized in my mind.
So let’s just shoot.... Read More »
Three Snapshots on the Way Down
Edgardo Cozarinsky translated by the author
1. “Il vecchio non trova pace”
What’s that you’re saying, I am about to snap at the barman with my coldest voice... Read More »
Tufts of Dark Hair Attached to Indeterminate Bodies
Lincoln Michel
The wind whipped salty air against Silas Woodrow’s face, but his daughter was nowhere in sight. She was always doing things like this.
Silas walked... Read More »
Mario Bellatin translated by Andrea Rosenberg
1- BLACK BALL RELOADED Author’s first look at the bande dessinée Black Ball
Yesterday I received some information about the Czech writer Bohumil Hrabal.... Read More »

sending...