LEAVE / REMAIN — SEVENTY HETERONYMS

This is a re-blog from Zoltán Aszód’s blog, Seventy Heteronyms. I have been following  his site for months now. His writing is powerful and important. And on your visit you can discover that he is also a fine photographer and musician.

Move quickly when the best place To be is the Terminal Tower, but Slowly cross this or any continent To be sure how to move ahead, How not to move, as if cement Is not the key (#Brutalist af) To concrete, security, 70 Euro Rubber sunglasses: remember Why you’re in their videos, not Why they […]

via LEAVE / REMAIN — SEVENTY HETERONYMS

hurricane

 

in the eye,

the nice guy.

shy.

afraid of women.

 

no friends no

laughter

unless rueful.

cats shun him.

 

if religious

his would be a

severe god.

within

 

slow currents

of pain, fear,

hatred begin

to spin

 

until he

shatters

mirrors,

all sweetness.

 

Hidden

A poet inevitably faces the question of how much to reveal. A “reveal” is also the final stage of a magician’s show, the part designed to elicit the audience’s amazement. If it is permissible  for a magician to hide behind illusion, costume and craft, is it also fine (or even possible) for a poet?

 

Hidden

 

the magic poet pulls

purple metaphors

from her

black top hat,

scarlet stories

from her ear,

while twisting

prestidigititorial syntax

beneath her coat

for the brilliance

of her reveal

 

Where the Devil Lives

 

Wichita.

Hot summer

after first grade.

I hear

“Ghost Riders

in the Sky,”

ride dreams on

devil-horses

over clouds.

 

Look at the neighbor’s

book of hell —

demons boil people

in big pots.

 

Lying on the floor

pet Sweet Alice,

our white cat,

to see what

she sees.

 

Kids drop

Sweet Alice

into a tall box.

Can’t get out.

 

This summer

Sweet Alice

disappears.