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A quarterly international literary journal

the spectacular

/ Poetry /

“I needed unerased paper,

transparent faith.

That’s how that day went for me.”

- Shin Hae Uk, trans. Spencer Lee-Lenfield

looking out at an overcast sky, window

staid like a polaroid frame, i prayed, let it be

lightning, the flash that scatters, the prickling

anxiety of humid skin, the first flush of a

noon-day drizzle. let it be lightning that jolts

apolitical flesh, that ravishes frosted eyes, that

pares back every atomised afternoon: we

like grains of sand, we like shards of glass,

our dolorous selves dissolving into fog. oh

to be split open like rocks into pools, like

flint into trickles that gush, ten-thousand-

gallon flows that spread and roll on

flatlands, that twist and turn on mountain

borders and settle in silent springs. spates.

outbursts. water abating. deep wrestled

to deep. body folded into the peace of an

agony that comes to recede day after day

after day.


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