Letter from Austin

Often I read one of Robert’s poems and wish I’d written it. Sometimes I do the next best thing and translate it into Chinese. More often I hold the thought of translating for too long and let the poem slip away. I am keeping this on my blog where it will remain as a reminder. One day, Bob.

O at the Edges

perfection

Letter from Austin

Michael, when you say moons do you see
cold stone floating in the firmament
or phrases frayed in the mouth and spat on paper?
And does the Spanish moon simmer at a similar
pace to mine or yours? Which embers blush brighter?
But let’s turn to estuaries, to salt and clamor and gun-
running poets and interrupted words sold in stalls
between parenthetical gates, to incomparable cavas
and the deterioration of envy and intervening years.
Or perhaps mislaid passion – a friend claims love
is merely a bad rash, that we scratch and scratch
and inflame but never truly cure what ails us. Sounds like
politics to me. Or sports. And business. Or neighborhoods.
On my street people should cook and play music together,
laugh, raise chickens and read good books. They should
brew beer, swap tomatoes, recite each other’s poetry and sing
in tune. But we’re…

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About Mary Tang

An urban orchardist everyday, a volunteer regularly, a poet sometimes and a blogger since March 2015. I travel when I can. Food is a constant.
This entry was posted in Poetry and tagged . Bookmark the permalink.

3 Responses to Letter from Austin

  1. taphian says:

    just wonderful, dear Mary. Hope you’re fine, have a nice day, kind regards Mitza

    Liked by 1 person

  2. in says:

    I know what you mean about thoughts slipping away. Thanks for sharing this one.

    Liked by 1 person

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