| From the book The Beginning of a Book |  |
The Subway. Moscow
Here they are, each one in his niche,
besotted, lopsided,
splotched with various boils, black eyes, bruises
(never mind, it doesn’t hurt any more!):
this one crouching,
that one astride a garbage can,
that one reclining like a Greek on a vase at the Louvre.
They hope that they’re invisible,
that this too will pass.
So,
my good brothers!
How was your banquet?
A success?
So was ours.
Larissa Volokhonsky and Emily Grosholz | |
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