Issue 141

Winter & Spring 2012

Poetry Nat Sufrin Poetry Nat Sufrin

nina we pretty

nina we pretty

much could do

exactly what

we want wherever

we are, if you’ve brought

your bellybutton, and i’ve got my gun.

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Poetry Haley Leithauser Poetry Haley Leithauser

Rescue

Sometimes it gets there

routinely,

with less of a trumpeted burst

than a tepid,

and expected,

trickle.

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Poetry Dian Duchin Reed Poetry Dian Duchin Reed

Reincarnation

The boy the others teased

all through elementary school

for his angel-cake pallor and Coke-bottle glasses

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Poetry Michael Collier Poetry Michael Collier

Labyrinth

At the playground, a father was shaming his son,

and though it was none of my business, I made it my concern,

staring at the father until he stared back,

which was enough admonishment for me to turn away,

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Poetry Fady Joudah Poetry Fady Joudah

Into Life

Mouths that breathe like fish out of water

Faster then slower pursed lips then gaping mouths billowing chests and all

The fixed stare that gives its sense up and over to other sense and reflex

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Poetry Fady Joudah Poetry Fady Joudah

In the Picture

In the picture that wasn’t taken

I lost my arthritis and started running

But was still

Overrun by the sea

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Poetry Helen Wickes Poetry Helen Wickes

Crossing the Whole Country

There’s turbulence, the plane suffering mood swings,

the good ones floaty, but you can’t count on them.

Always trust your pilot, says the Air Force flier beside me,

commuting to war, to this war,

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Poetry Meena Alexander Poetry Meena Alexander

Red Bird

These lines are for a child who counts out potatoes

And hands them to his mother,

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Poetry Ghassan Zaqtan Poetry Ghassan Zaqtan

The Camp Prostitute

Translated from Arabic by Fady Joudah

The intentions of those heading to her house

could be touched by fingers

chaste and proud.

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Poetry Ghassan Zaqtan Poetry Ghassan Zaqtan

Preliminary Sketch

Translated from Arabic by Fady Joudah

The talk that remained in the house, when we went out,

remained alone

and agitated

pacing its domains

like a stubborn wolf.

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Poetry Ghassan Zaqtan Poetry Ghassan Zaqtan

A Graphic 1995

Translated from Arabic by Fady Joudah

The endings are not ours

not anyone’s.

Endings belong to strangers

who weren’t born on wagons,

people we find in the dust of corridors

and who happen in speech

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Poetry Louisa Diodato Poetry Louisa Diodato

An Aside

Girls peeling skin, peeling splinters back, making origami

of each other’s faces, girls rug-burned and face-planted,

girls with blood under their nails, girls biting boys

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