Issue 205, Summer 2013
But you, are you Christians?
So be it, you are Christians.
At night one could be.
So for this might
it is thought to be life,
this lateness, this aftermath . . . These bouquets of flowers
left undelivered, in one fell swoop now
felled, extinguished. So many flowers!
And yet, one could . . .
Exit, cross over, exceed, reach.
—Translated from the Italian by Jorie Graham