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..:: CONTENTS ::..
   Volume X, Issue I

..:: POETRY ::..


..:: PROSE ::..

..:: ETC ::..
   Contributor's Notes

..:: ARCHIVES ::..
   Volume I, Issue I
   Volume I, Issue II
   Volume II, Issue I
   Volume II, Issue II
   Volume III, Issue I
   Volume III, Issue II
   Volume IV, Issue I
   Volume IV, Issue II
   Volume V, Issue I
   Volume V, Issue II
   Volume VI, Issue I
   Volume VI, Issue II
   Volume VII, Issue I
   Volume VII, Issue II
   Volume VIII, Issue I
   Volume VIII, Issue II
   Volume IX, Issue I
   Volume IX, Issue II

 
Poetry


from Kosti's Ramón I/V
Richard Kostelanetz

 

Water is so clear only because it has no memory.

When the train leaves the station, look out the window to steal good-byes not meant for you.

Hens tire of reporting to the police the latest egg thieves.

A scared woman coldly watches.

The other side of the river will always be dissatisfied because it is not this side.

No literary cabal is serious until it appoints a treasurer.

It is a petty conception of silence to think that because it can wrap us round it belongs to us.

Only some would want their eyeglasses to be mirrors.

 

 

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