by Sotère Torregian

Whiffenpoofery
     from “Tempus Fujitsu”
          for Collin Schuster

qu’ il y ait besoin d ‘ un cri pour s ‘ y referer
— Aimé Césaire

MINIMUM
HIKE
FALLS    SHORT    STOP    GAP
Saliesians    East Timor    Wishes
Machine    Washable    Methinks    If You

dare    this Cantabile    Show Itself

The    O Rudyard Kepling -White -Man’s -Burden    bar none
Explore    Alternatives as resource for
Yelp our Language    matters    escapade
Police-car sirens    sound    offing
Like wounded animal    in
The distance    abruptive
of your waking
Take    Shape
I am always changing    into

Sotère Torregian

by Iris Rifkin-Gainer

When the news is good
joys rise up like planets in my breasts
I travel with the stars whirling, whirring
a figurehead with tousled, sculpted curls
among the waves

Waves, stars ~  it is all one in these travels
Good fortune, health, memories, loves
tossed in constellations, sparkling like the days
a dipper filled with water from the spring
recalls

by Iris Rifkin-Gainer

Now, time was the jewel
drenched with words
in the pearly morning light

Each perfect frame
turning on a dime
in your bones

Shrinking from
the job at hand I
fathoming the shape of space
decline

Each perfect frame
breached with words
burning without rhyme

In my bones
fathoming the shape
shouldering the crest
of time

by Joel Sloman

1.

Imported from the UK
the first daffodils
remove hands from their eyes
left then right
Red tulips
snake
out of leaf caves
Edges of ornate petals
are not handled as gingerly
as the Greek krater
recently returned to Italy
black figures prancing on its surface
like fancifully colored carousel animals

Lists, pro and con
thoughts arriving at the window sill
but not leaping
Can I handle this disaster ?
this relationship ?

2.

Very big
and very pale
a sun sinks behind trees
that make obeisance
to the curving river

I would like this fairy tale
to give you pleasure

Chilly, windy
the long, soft, lonely cloud
rushes toward a precipice

You tap on the floor
I tap back on the ceiling
in a non-code
I hear breathing in the dark
a window, a kitchen, a street
coffee

3.

He ran in circles around the sofa
until exhausted
Meanwhile the strange visitor
fixed his torn lapel

Droopy are the tulips
perky are the daffodils
the vase is a crown roast
or a bird with paper boots

The perfect setting for me
is when I can observe others disagreeing
and be detached
and compassionate

                    He had this dream
and wasted the day

After AWP
poets in bars watched the Super Bowl

4.

He didn’t know another way
failing into
the corner
where writing
embraced him and imprisoned him
I have the right
to pull you to me
ignoring your moping disinclination
to pull you onto my lap
and speak to you
as intimately as I like

No, that’s not right
or “write”
a universe of athletic “girls”
silence that’s a figure of speech
upon which sounds —
a car,
steps on the stairs —
are collaged
a composition
on a warped grid

Stems are
                              bundled tubes
a small white dog on a leash
specialty shops
the thick pink strokes
crowd to the left
of a yellow translucent fish . . .

5.

It’s “insolent kindness”
her face was ashen

I wore “practical” clothes
selected by my parents
made by a family friend

I stood in the doorway
grabbed the arm
of a passing girl
pulled her toward me
another uselessness

Women with studs in lower lips
tour in Yiddish theater companies
sing inspirational anthems
have loud conversations
about politics
and money
                              with men who are starving