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Quiescent Infinite

Quiescent Infinite

by Hélène Cardona
On a visit to my ancestors I’m shown / into the palace of hypnotists / through a small entrance and grand rounding staircase, / each step a drawer containing sculptures.
Four by Rilke

Four by Rilke

translated by Len Krisak
Rainer Maria Rilke (1875-1926) is one of the most influential poets in German literature. Following are new translations of four of Rilke’s poems from his 1907 work Neue Gedichte.
The Dreamer Returns Home

The Dreamer Returns Home

by Robert S. King
This was not my house the day / it grew smaller over my shoulder. / The family my blind rage left would not / know me now, nor would I know more / than who they were.
Piano

Piano

by Joyce Sutphen
Somehow, it keeps itself in tune. / Each key remembers its name / and loves its neighbors— / black and white.
Midnight Recital

Midnight Recital

by Kurt Lovelace
Kneeling to untangle my dog’s leg from its leash, / how did I get here, walking a pit bull in the dark under the sour leaves of drought resistant Texas oaks?
The Cope Paradigm

The Cope Paradigm

by Jim Davis
But boy, I’ll tell ya, a moment / in the woodshed with Kathleen would shake the rust / from the long-handled lopper and the pruning saw— / she’ll make you think this whole thing’s worth doing, / and worth doing right.
Sculpting the Desert

Sculpting the Desert

by Robert S. King
Even in desert sun no scales crack through / your skin of almost pure light. / Your tracks do not hurry around themselves / like a twisted puzzle.
At Least One Point

At Least One Point

Jim Tilley
My father never settled for clumsy solutions, / some leap of insight always required, / a transformation to an equivalent problem / easy to solve.
Prophet of Furnaces and Dust

Prophet of Furnaces and Dust

by David Salner
After Vietnam, he came home to fight / with the dust, went wild with the injustice, / waged war with everyone and lost.
Secret Friends

Secret Friends

by Jessica Bell
I don’t know how to pray, / but I’ve seen them do it / on TV; kneeling by a bed / in nightgowns, hands woven / like secret friends.

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by Scudder Parker

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by Stephen Parrish, with the editors of The Lascaux Review

Lascaux Vol 7