Dailies 2/12/17: the edge of the world, adolescence, a guitar, & knowing that “this is just living, not a trauma/ nor dying, but a lingering pain /reminding us that we are alive.”



The Guitar- Austin Allen

(after Lorca) 

The guitar
begins to cry again.
Dawn’s cup
is smashed: it bleeds
a bright wine stain.
The guitar
begins to cry again.

Read rest of poem 


Following the Road – Larry Smith 

I have left my wife at the airport,
flying out to help our daughter
whose baby will not eat.
And I am driving on to Kent
to hear some poets read tonight.

Read rest of poem 


At the Edge of the World – Knuts Skuienieks – translated from the Latvian by Bitite Vinklers 

I have nothing in common with those
Who are afraid of burns



This is the last barricade, firebreak, red line.
Across it,
We will no longer shake hands
As friends, politicians, or drinking buddies.

Read rest of poem 


Adolescence – Claude McKay

There was a time when in late afternoon
The four-o’clocks would fold up at day’s close
Pink-white in prayer, and ’neath the floating moon
I lay with them in calm and sweet repose.

Read rest of poem 



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