by Magnús Sigurðsson

Now the poems
seem to come
one after another.

That can only mean one thing:

Autumn
has arrived.

Translated by Meg Matich.
Originallyappeared in Cold Moons, Phoneme Media, 2017.

by Magnús Sigurðsson

Honey
     Ursin’s Astronomy: Appendix

Imagine
the earth
immersed
in honey.

Its rotation
trailing
honey strands. 

As with
time
and space,

in Einstein’s
universe.

Translated by Meg Matich.
Originally appeared in Cold Moons, Phoneme Media, 2017.

by Kristín Eiriksdóttir

I lay there looking into her face
felt her warmth
her breath in time with mine,
followed her gaze.

She was looking at a bust of Lenin next to a fern.
I know she didn’t see Lenin.
I followed her gaze,
through the bust of Lenin,
past the fern.

In the glade is a scene
from a Tarkovsky movie
shot in Siberia,
except in the distance, there’s a wild peacock,
its head in the air
fanning out its feathers.

The women
veiled mothers and daughters
don’t notice anything,
never see one another,
their gazes turned inward,
back toward the glade.

Translated by Larissa Kyzer.

by Kristín Eiriksdóttir 

and so

fall sheets of paper

and so 

the meat becomes visible

and so

it cracks just a little

and so

it’s all sucked out

and so

a body is found

just as a child disappears

and so 

nakedness becomes normal

and so

abnormal again

and so

the drawing of the body glows

and so 

the drawing of the body is burned on the body

and so

it burns through the body

then

the dry grass reaches from chin to collarbone

someone draws scorch marks

and a few pass through the scorch marks

and then

scorch marks turn into drawings

and so

drawings burn

and so 

bodies trapped in drawings burn

and so

the ashes become crispy black and broken

then ashes swirl

and so

a bud appears

and so 

it blooms

and so 

it climbs

and so

it chimes 

Translated by Larissa Kyzer.