Andrei Codrescu
Andrei Codrescu: his new poetry book is Too Late for Nightmares (Black Widow Press), Fall 2022, and Meat from the Goldrush, a novel (Antibookclub, 2022). Born in Sibiu, Romania, he now lives in Brooklyn and would love to kill Putin.
Michael Brownstein
Michael Brownstein: poet, novelist, shamanic practitioner, and Buddhist, he is the author of three novels: Country Cousins, Self–Reliance, and The Touch, as well as eleven poetry titles including, World on Fire and Let’s Burn the Flags of All Nations. He moved to NYC in 1965 and took part in the life-changing events of May ’68 in Paris. He taught at Naropa Institute during its formative years and now lives in the Catskill mountains.
My Fingerprints Left on a Book
by Sotère Torregian
My Fingerprints Left on a Book
Quel signe retrouver ?
— L.S. Senghor, Chants d ‘ombre
My fingerprints left on the cover of a book
Testifying as neither Black nor White
shall trouble no one at night but intone instead
as the harbingers of dreams
in an unsuspecting girl’s imagining
as she grasps the tome
reminder
of an author’s pride or ambition in
their imprimatur
And eventually be erased by a free-and-easy shelver’s
usage in time
No interest for the forensics
of a Scotland Yard here as one might gaze
upon a wanted-poster in
a post-office
But their innocuous presence
retrove if you will the
origins of a poem
their pilgrim’s path across
A young woman’s cheek now only in memory
Or dabbling in an insouciant idling
the hours in frustrated reworkings
of the day inextricably record
That in the service of life and love
an upstart vagrant poet once lived
and dwelt herein
Sotère Torregian
Janvier, 2022
What Time is it Where You Live ?
by Sotère Torregian
What Time is it Where You Live ?
from “Tempus Fujitsu”
for Emily Sanagorsky
What time is it now
where you live
And I try
to rise to
my life’s work yet b bumbled in sleep
And you dream of fishing perhaps and mimosas
for the holiday
with your mate
( I mate -less and yet plethorous
in herding dreams )
as I reach
for my books as guardsmen of my realm of La Sagesse
poésie Vision-quest
And you gaze in the morning at the bluest sky
Just waking in bare-feet that need swarming
I breathe
a bit of fire for them
out of my creative verve
Which reaches out to encompass the Four Corners of
the West where you prospect in your science
of which I remain an ignoramus
but a knower loving
that which you are and strive to enfold
Sotère Torregian
December 18, 2021