ABOUT

CONTENTS

EDITORIAL

ARCHIVE

LAGNIAPPE

MAST

SUBMISSIONS

Two Poems
by Ian Randall Wilson


Translations From Languor Not Yet Spoken

In an absence of because
the head just path sometimes.
The Beloved says: Hello Freud time
to the me of the new endless
(much like the me of the old endless).
Between us, enough somewhere distance
for eyes to answer draft in a world of unions.
The Beloved says: Years will still words' air
as if after surprise,
after the preferred all,
after the two the of the busy
the Beloved mends the biology of it.
Light is thoroughly cautious.
I shiver and roofs come to ensure water's service
(predicted the coffee-pot elders).
Splinters were a clause in memory,
the Beloved's hands charms to my back.
Blossoms sort a context
each such a cargo of her will.
I'm the if problem—
The Beloved says: Remember distant.
I remember necessity's geese becoming fog
as the ex-muscles gather.
I remember the what gives present.
The Beloved says: The using is need.
I hold out my you hands to her.
I wait for the great and.
I rest in the elegant thought culture of air.
In the sees sees sees of cleared out
the Beloved says: With get, can't makes change.


Spring Emeritus or A History of the Beloved and Me

up across the body cherry
my present again used
all ahead angry
a paper woman of smells

miss any small there
and we are drifting forms of science-leashed blindness
my back going ancient
the ankle cults claim me

tokens do for hallelujah maintenance
a flat error on my wrist
I face sherbet extinction
loneliness fools the cold

I am again a chest in unfazed space
making my ink silent art
each inseparable like
each absolute her

in me her of
all mind shroud
mystery petals
she calls me the necessary I'll

in our once volume more radio communion
human Renaissance density
a responsible grief where rain planned itself
dream strangulations grows but we stay lip steady

she says I'm car beautiful from the jowls
her chunky bumble
all handful shirt and cloud
before before

enough of the somewhere distance
I'm going high striding into pockets
I'll take her in my slightly arms
I love her worry muscle