Thursday, January 9, 2014



passages from Nabokov's translation of Lermontov,
small rotational objects near Saturn: driving on ice
you come upon men gently pulling a corpse
from a rolled and burned-out station wagon.
Another road death: your rear view mirror image.

Memory: a High Plains cul-de-sac girl named Insomnious
down on her luck... tending bar in an Elko brothel.
You follow glow-pink road flares into one lane,
listen to thin ice crack beneath your car wheels,
catch a whiff of a wintry farmer burning tumbleweeds.

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