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Eleni Vakalo | found in translation

“Listening to the foreign language I was deeply speaking our own, and came to understand how difficult it is to name things truly…” says the Greek poet, Eleni Vakalo (1921-2001). …

Source: Eleni Vakalo | found in translation

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selected from otata 30 (June 2018)

Angela Giordano

erba selvaggia —
la luna tra le canne
così vicina

wild grass —
the moon in the reeds
so close

Robert Christian

He has no dog but two birds follow him

Lucia Cardillo

bianche farfalle . . . 
in quell’andirivieni
verdi intervalli

white butterflies . . .
in the going and coming
green intervals

Corrado Aiello

un vecchio trucco:
fingersi addormentati
per non tradirsi

an old trick —
pretending to be asleep
not to betray oneself

Margherita Petriccione

nuvole nere —
la fragile fioritura
degli ulivi

black clouds —
the fragile bloom
of olive trees

Iannis Xenakis: Psappha for solo percussion, performed by Ying-Hsueh Chen – YouTube

Unsuk Chin Piano Study V Toccata – YouTube

Bartok – Out of Doors: Suite V – The Chase| Mei Yi Foo – Live from Lucerne Festival – YouTube

Worlds of Ursula K. Le Guin TRAILER | Sheffield Doc/Fest 2018 – YouTube

two by Mel Elberg | The Brooklyn Rail

INTEGRATED ARTS

 

Our goals can never be achieved through evolution, only through revolution
-Shulamith Firestone               

 

be a woman    reality  with yr hand on the thigh of my eros  please her

as you ejact      spirituality from the real’s repression                       eating

yr fist     mother nature interior               keeps both earspressed    to the wall

with tiniest voice inside it                       the soft fall

of an old newspaper              yr only alive for part of this simulation once

be a woman      under flesh eating flowers     thought worms   attracted

to the glow-eyed`       who wait for no sunshine           be a woman   doom

doom   an accident     blackthorned   eglantine          loosely diagnostic

my heart is a fine hurtle over which you climb

as if   no one lived there

it is not             an alarming situation

            but a gross  abuse       of life  sex     power     we’ve met him

many times before                  be a woman    turning             turnt

ore of the most sweeping global paranoia     ruinous                fuckable

girlhoods         capsizing         (to get rid of the Earth    will be man’s

ultimate sexual domination)     be a woman    he wants it

to be a surprise prove he knows her worth  a   hand   in    mouth    the myths

as product       and their reproducibility inside me       for a fee

she’ll raise you a little erotic charge    a violent   pocket of time

be a woman    supposed not to be   a woman           deconstructing

deep optic fantasy      I am a cunt in the earthbloodying pure heaven

a woman   composing unpower in the vaginal billfolds     of the cycle’s open secret

the silence is the folding action              of concealment        sex

on a dead thing        men there

be a woman

 

Mel Elberg is a queer poet interested in speculative feminisms and the effect of writing on our experience of time.

Source: two | The Brooklyn Rail

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