Sara London reads her poem “Basta” from Issue 09 of The Common.
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Goddamn
MORIEL ROTHMAN-ZECHER
The chunk of the ball / On the cracked blacktop / And our torsos so covered / In sweat nearby the sea / Swells and the smell seeps / Into our hair and the air / Turns into night all around us / And the pebbles of the ball / Still tickle our palms as smoke / Trickles into our lungs...
A List of His Flaws
PETER MISHLER
Single-headed. / Flowering inwardly. / Barely felt in the birth canal... / Cupped like a handful of sea uncertainly held. / Carried fire to the human encampment. / Herod in boyhood. / An herbicide. / Given name known to the weapons inspectors. / Anchorite.
Offering
TARA SKURTU
It was the first time I’d lived / with a man, and I wanted him // to translate the name of our street. / He was holding my cold fist // in his own, and we were on / Ofrandei, in the middle of unpaved // Bragadiru, Romania, on our way / home.