Academic journal article Field

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Article excerpt

Tesarska Street, Ljubljana

Opportunities aren't lacking: I only have to step through the back

gate,

into a suburban garden under a small canopy. A peony nods to me

knowingly. Here you are again, you will stare at me and wrinkle

your brow like a lull before the storm that doesn't come

and imagine that you were once a glass-blower. You followed a great

river,

which furrowed the air of the workroom and gushed through a long

pipe,

so that you were heat and chill and leaves on the surface of skin, a

time

for music in a painful place, a lot of Mingus. Opportunities aren't

lacking:

I only have to step through the back gate, lured by the shallows of

days,

and I surrender, as wet as a stray dog, water running off me,

like that time when I forgot to pull the yeast from the scent of the loaf

and we walked all afternoon, dizzy, from one room to another,

bricklayers sweating in front of the ankles of a young nun, someone,

I don't remember his name right now, wore a red sock. …

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