Three Poems by Rosmarie Waldrop

BOMB 138 Winter 2017
BOMB 138 Cover


One must think of, but finally, I had to agree, not walk around naked, not in body or spirit. Not write about, when what is a word, at the risk of disconnection, no longer ask. What it would take. Acknowledge the dark, though with dreams in color and. If still possible. Moist skin against the page.


And so ask: winter? this winter? not with writing pressing in. A variety of large and empty, but perhaps only a tone. It needn’t bring tears to your eyes. Whereas winter means. The edge of the wood already distances itself. Lightness born of fatigue. Regardless of kisses, snow weighing down. The branches. Not feeling.


Love, lord of. Such a silly and out loud. To disperse a crowd for a sentence when a tulip is a tulip. Not only in Holland. Tried to approach. As if along the edges. But what of the dishevelment and intermittence? I’ve been living on the verso of. What with ecstatic folly turned to simple thirst? Or positive desire? Slow says the body. Across the dream.

Rosmarie Waldrop’s Gap Gardening: Selected Poems came out from New Directions in 2016. She is the author of the novels The Hanky of Pippin’s Daughter and A Form/of Taking/It All (Northwestern University Press, 2001), the collected essays Dissonance (if you are interested) (University of Alabama Press, 2005), and a memoir, Lavish Absence: Recalling and Rereading Edmond Jabès (Wesleyan University Press, 2002). She translates German and French poetry and coedits Burning Deck Press with Keith Waldrop in Providence, Rhode Island.

Four Poems by Matthew Zapruder
Textes by Shuzo Takiguchi

A snow lark hovers over the isolated Isle of the Dead A shadow on the beach is an echo of Venus who bestows upon me some ripened red fruit In this isolated moment waves produce a dream that seduces me

Bruce Boone by Evan Kennedy
Bruce Boone

Bruce Boone Dismembered selects from four decades of unflinching, intimate prose and poetry on gay life by the cofounder of San Francisco’s New Narrative movement.

from Some Girls Walk Into The Country They Are From by Sawako Nakayasu

Girl C is supposed to be hard at work today but she keeps missing her stops, slipping. As the train falls out of view once again, she returns to her world of desire, instead of the world of transport and commuting and punctuality. She allows herself to float into the passenger car, and her pockets empty themselves and her clothing flies off-screen as per instructions provided one hundred years ago.

Originally published in

BOMB 138, Winter 2017

Featuring interviews with Lynda Benglis, Roe Ethridge, Becca Blackwell, Antonio Campos, Robert Greene, Angie Keefer, Liz Magic Laser, Laura Kurgan, China Miéville, Michael Palmer, and Rosmarie Waldrop.

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BOMB 138 Cover