Issue 27 - Columbia: A Journal of Literature and Art

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WINTER COMPETITION MICHELLE MITCHELL-FOUST Five Songs for a Palmist Let the winter months come, she says, in the right hand half of her rooms, under the lantern's embroidery of light, and I agree to let them come, heavy as summer. I make the fist that she asks for, and she charts over it. This day hasn't taken on the flavor of the days nearby. How does she know I'll take a fossil from the Mission garden, and blood flowers from the mausoleum grounds, and press them in an album of figureheads: Madame's nail is a mere sliver of the full moon just over this pier where her shop rests. She sews the air from oppens to thumb, and at the first blossom of my hand, she knows and says a god has saved you lately, no one else. II. Sun under the railroad trestle, and gravel, and a crescent moon still invisible at my feet, I learned fear outside the house in the shape of the hand-sized
stone thrown inches from my face by a lunatic caught in the act of turning around. I was a woman on the mouth-breather's journey through a nightmare by the time he confronted me, to ask me what I'd seen in all the warnings of his slow car driving our roads to ash: children in the flashes against a white tile floor, different pinks, swatches of skin, more like flowers than children. What else, but make a frieze of his butchery? in. You send a man I've never met into my dreams, a sandier version of you, so when I rise from inside the warm water into an embalmed dusk, I say, "Your brother," his face wet, head and shoulders showing, "saved my life." Before he can respond, the dream is gone, and in its place my slow mourning over you. What are you telling me now: that there's trouble where you are, or that you've just come out of trouble, for a moment, to look around? IV. A slate Diana overhangs the shelf. An oval of her pale leg shows at the hip's straining button. A man once breathed warm air through her dress there, while he was breathing her smell in, and even though this is still life, always the thread of her leaving the scene, fluttering with leaves, and coming into the scene, in the past life of a woman always setting precedents. I haven't really known a single hunt, she says, except the one that made a stone of madness grow in me. You know the one. v. A god loves innuendo, and the god starlet called every day back then. Shouldering the phone, she said, It's a shame to wash the dress. Something happened to me last night. The weather of a gothic evening blowing in, she was too happy about his story of a woman who is really two women, the one who wanders the upperworld every time he tells it, and wears a dress that seems too large for her,
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TRANSLATION SECTION TRY COAST TO CO
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Editor-in-Chief LORI SODBRLIND Exec
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ELIZABETH MACKLIN SAMN STOCKWELL DA
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IO her with broken locks on pill ca
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o a: ID u. O >- IT 0 in on his face
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18 or his daughter. He said north o
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in charge of the lifted-up-spirits
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The wife says, "Oh, shut up, won't
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then sits down, clutching the baske
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34 They all drink. The wife's head
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Liliana Ursu, a native of Bucarest,
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De la fereastra Ingerului Fan, iarb
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The Key to Mystery Hot is my body a
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5° Everything Kobo Abe ever wrote
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T. 54 "How ironic," the man said, l
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GWYNETH LEWIS Whose coat is that ja
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o < s 0 o In his poem, "Strange Mee
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O o 66 So this is the man you dream
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ELIZABETH MACKLIN The Secret Note Y
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When a woman loves a man, they have
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TERESE SVOBODA At the Castle To say
Page 43 and 44: JUDITH BAUMEL Hot One moment it was
Page 45 and 46: JEAN MONAHAN The Concert —Isabell
Page 47 and 48: One of the Last Days As through a d
Page 49 and 50: only to lift their branches for one
Page 51 and 52: 98 always looked at curating as col
Page 53 and 54: 102 structure versus vertical, hars
Page 55 and 56: LINDA BIERDS The Breaking-Aways —
Page 57 and 58: KAY RYAN Weakness and Doubt Failure
Page 60 and 61: DANIEL TOBIN At the Egyptian Exhibi
Page 62 and 63: NATALIE KUSZ After Bedtime At night
Page 64 and 65: Q. Z 3 ID 124 me to visit a squat i
Page 66 and 67: 128 VII. Somehow I knew not to tell
Page 68 and 69: 132 It was an illustrated history o
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Page 72 and 73: 3 140 XIV. He must have been there
Page 74 and 75: o z 111 o 144 smiled; she even got
Page 76 and 77: I48 Mostly things are quiet on the
Page 78 and 79: 152 the grass. I imagined him still
Page 80 and 81: 156 other on a mother's shoulder. I
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Page 86 and 87: Dykes To Ulatch Out For AS THE RE W
Page 88 and 89: "IF OMUY HE HAt> ONt \NTo THE WU «
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Page 92 and 93: i8o Cinematically, there is the req
Page 96 and 97: and she looked at him for hours, an
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Issue 27 - Columbia: A Journal of Literature and Art

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