Selections from the Dead Letter Office
after Music for Nine Postcards by Hiroshi Yoshimura
1
. . . where nothing at all is missing)
ever after, ever after
eyes unblurred, languishing
long, these arms
becoming azure
becoming inside-out
umbrellas traffic-tamed
turnpikes starlings chitter
outside, outside
ever my armistice
2
& inside
ever the waiting room
clammy white polymers, a chair,
plastic plants in plastic pots
O weedy mannequin worker! O face!
snake oil shine & smile—
teeth fall like raindrops
while children catch dust on their tongues
3
enraptured by a subtler
& ever subtler
suspense: a pall
to lids lambent
observe: quiet
swells the theatre
outside inside
be truant, vicarious
every breath enters light
4
only when light exits
can I breathe
again: ballroom
shadow, billowy
ballet, love
-like insides
filling space
like a basin
& so we measure
wellness, to have been
well enough to wake again—
to luster, to lust,
to the weight
of a sunspot
crawling
in reverse—
5
easy wish maker I
bitter fingertips at
a window I whiten
to wield one touch
bloom back words
mellow in the slow
of a shimmer filter
static from radio I
ready to love again
6
secrets in the sky, signals
from the underpass of clouds
mouth of the window
opens, speaks: [ ]
7
shall I
welcome
gently
delayed seasons of adolescence
rainbow off rooftop
prism of God in the pear trees?
watch! the
light shines through light shines through
light shines through light shines through
8
glittering, glistening, glory be to atmosphere / the hydrologic cycle / memories I am too young to have but remember anyway / they say / each snowflake is unique / but what if that is untrue? / there was once the same papery shape found in a poem / long after the first one had melted / a flurry of white in the corner of a vision / a photo of my father when he was young / meaning, I was once the snow before the snow was ever snow / find me, find me / in the hexagonal maze of another city winter / pleading: find me, find me / in the shadow of a shovel in the year before I was born
9
swaddled in my future
grandchildren’s laughter
till moneywort overflows my mouth
till torched by a spark that is not fire
long in the wellspring, the idea of being alive
never once the perceived, surrender as remnant
ever after, ever after
yet I admit I am echo, that
I loaned every year, but
if body is a blindfold
what leads the dreamer awake? the beauty
is in believing, in believing makes it real
eyes ablur,
flourishing
ever since, ever since
(from elsewhere it seems I arrived here . . .
Jonathan Koven grew up on Long Island, NY. He holds a BA in English and Creative Writing from American University, works as a technical writer, and reads chapbooks for Moonstone Arts. He lives in Philadelphia with his wife Delana, and their cats Peanut Butter and Keebler. Read Jonathan’s poetry debut Palm Lines (2020), available from Toho Publishing. His fiction debut Below Torrential Hill (2021) is a winner of the Electric Eclectic Novella Prize.
Adam Gianforcaro is a writer living in Wilmington, DE. His poems, stories, and essays can be found in The Northwest Review, Poet Lore, Okay Donkey, Hobart, HAD, No Contact, and elsewhere.
Tony Schanuel is an award-winning photographer and visual artist who has fused a professional background in photography, digital technology, and painting and mark making to create fine art that transcends those mediums. His work has been featured in Digital Imaging Magazine, Computer Graphic Magazine, Wild Heart Journal, St. Louis Design Magazine, and is a featured artist in Cyber Palette and Extreme Graphics, two books showcasing digital artists and their work. He has exhibited at the Florence Biennale and his art is held in private and corporate collections including the Fine Arts Museum of Houston permanent photographic collection. http://www.schanuelphoto.com/.