From Books and Correspondances A Short History of Decay, E.M. Cioran

By DANIEL LAWLESS
 

A flock of Aratinga nenday in the park today—
Green parakeets, so exactly the color of the grass
The grass itself seemed to shriek.
And all at once fly away.A wonderful thing to imagine:
A magic carpet, no Ali Baba.
Just the shriek-shape of it
Swooping and curling, rising free of the earth.
Then no carpet—
Disappeared over the treetops, the water tower
Where an intoxicated boy, your neighbor’s son,
Once clawed the glistening sides shrieking
In the dead of night until he drowned.
As if—still—you needed reminding:
By all evidence we are in this world to do nothing.

 

[Purchase Issue 14 here.]

 

Daniel Lawless’s book, The Gun My Sister Killed Herself With and Other Poems, will be published next year by Salmon Poetry. Recent poems appear or are forthcoming in Asheville Poetry ReviewB O D YThe Cortland ReviewFULCRUM, The Common, The American Journal of Poetry, PloughsharesPrairie Schooner, FIELDManhattan Review, Numéro Cinq, and other journals. He is the founder and editor of Plume: A Journal of Contemporary Poetry.

From Books and Correspondances A Short History of Decay, E.M. Cioran

Related Posts

Gabriella Fee

June 2022 Poetry Feature: Gabriella Fee

GABRIELLA FEE
Death springs from me like a hothouse flower. / My mother swaddles me in terrycloth / and vigils me for three days in her bed. / Pillbox. Rice and lentils. Kettle. Psalm. / She dims the lights as though I were a moth. / She combs my hair.

Image of Zhang Qiaohui and Yilin Wang's headshots.

Translation: “Soliloquy” by Zhang Qiaohui

ZHANG QIAOHUI
You know where Grandma is buried, but do not know / where Grandma’s Grandma is / Jiaochang Hill’s graves have long been displaced, now covered with lush greenery / In the mortal world, a saying, “to have no resting place even after death” / I stand at the old burial ground.

Tree

May 2022 Poetry Feature

By ELIZABETH METZGER
For now, let us choose not to remember / who said History repeats as Tragedy then Farce, / and who else / repeated such nonsense / with variations because, friends, allow me / to be pedantic, just this moment. History repeats / as Tragedy more than once.