elementia

Comrades

By Lukas Bacho

To go outside I don a mask / the size of a human heart. / It’s become the law now. A turn in the wind / brings back Beijing: snow of pollen adrift, radioactive-yellow / cremation of God. In short, what you get / when too many boys love to burn.


Duplex: Headwater

By Lukas Bacho

After Jericho Brown

 

Like a good fisherman, I read the water.

I can’t afford to miss a ripple in the current.

 

            Past and future form ripples in the current,


男扮男装

By Lukas Bacho

After 《木兰辞》, first transcribed ca. 500 CE

 

translate: to carry from one state to another, as Enoch was translated, that is, carried to heaven without dying [1]


aunties' feet

By Octavia Williams

Bony fingers whipping, winding, wrinkling ‘cross my scalp

Heat near ears - don’t do it - yep, she’s scalded me

“Girl, don’t wail like that!” Popped with comb

Wince and whine, smile inside - aunties like this are rare