poetry, place and informatics

issue 1



issue 1

Tsead Bruinja
translated by
David Colmer


when she hears the hand on the handle behind her
the spring in the cellar door stretches the blue
mouthful of meths splashes back in the plastic
belly of the bottle still not mixed with her spit

her heart falls again her face blushes red
she screws the lid tight and wipes the wrinkled
back of her left hand over her mouth and only
starts to breathe in the gentle eyes of her daughter

who sent her boyfriend home with a last kiss
and missed her mother in the chair the black
lid of the stove heavy cast-iron unused

warmth probing the awareness of her fingers
a cautious creaking on the cellar stairs mother
is still up she thought and goes there


hare in the field thinks
the hare is all finished
the hare is all gone like
geese flying over winter

hunters’ eyes say summer
and the hunter is all finished
the hunter is all
gone like summer

the hunter is all green
the hare in the hunter calls
and the hare is all finished

the field in the field thinks shot
and the field is all finished

most of all the hare is finished
in the field and in the hunter

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