By Keith Burton i was stretching my legs on the littoralgiving names to the shapes of the cloudsthat swam across the lake’s reflectionwhen trouble came crawling on eight legs. help me across he asked with a period. i knew better; i had an owl’s acuity.no can do, i know you…
By Maria Lipiskova Translated by Martin Zlatev It can be black and white as a poem about the women reflected in the eyeglasses moving over the flat shadows of this winter Peterburg with black shoes like scissors in which the steps entered their black hands and black gestures in the…