A Novel

by James Koller

Suddenly, up from her bed,
she crossed the moonlit room,
her white skin silver, he thought,
in that light. What is it? he asked,
from the bed, watching her,

& she, at her mirror,
seemingly, he thought,
caught by her own image,
explained: I’d forgotten
to take out my earrings.

Will you come back to bed?
he asked.
                Of course I will.

Rita degli Esposti

1

sulky
the hill its profile
the peachtrees cemetery
scorned cabbages
dedication of poetry to the dead
living

2

unforgiving matter
you’ll look like an Etruscan
particularly hair
ubi nil terreat
having slop with a fork
trying to understand a poem

3

comforting
poetry
of dandelion
out
of time

4

music in my head
a killer on yr sofa
wait wait wait

5

rolls of skin, you know
produced in a lab
under some
over some
beneath
some

6

it’s not my willpower
it’s witch doctor
it’s venerare
assoggettare
in my teatro stabile
of the four directions
( the fifth in the centre)

7

pleasant
the rain
lining up
perceptions
there’s no
limit
to the
limit

Some of these poems were printed in a handmade edition of a booklet , “poesie for clunk!,” April 2008.