Kelly Albrecht’s Reviews > Poet in New York > Status Update

Look at the concrete shapes in search of their void.
Mistaken dogs and half-eaten applies.
Look at this sad fossil world with its anxiety and anguish,
a world that can’t find the accent of its very first sob.

“It doesn’t matter if the boy grows silent when stuck with the last pin,
or if the breeze is defeated in cupped cotton flowers,
because there is a world of death whose perpetual sailors
will appear in the arches and freeze you from behind the trees.”

Era el momento de las cosas secas:
de la espiga en el ojo y el gato laminado;
del óxido de hierro de los grandes puentes
y el definitivo silencio del corcho.