This poem is taken from PN Review 227, Volume 42 Number 3, January - February 2016.
‘Two Below Zero’ and other poems
Studies in Translation
Then we’re arriving,
and the headlights flare
off sudden pouncing houses,
a side of something
in the butcher’s window, a cat’s
one frozen eye. Pulled up, the car
ticks like a suspect device,
filling the silent street
with hazard lights.
Cracked open, our home-
from-home breathes out
aromas of moth-balled naves
and vaults. Then the bags
are barely down, and the place
is blaring, spitting
...
Then we’re arriving,
and the headlights flare
off sudden pouncing houses,
a side of something
in the butcher’s window, a cat’s
one frozen eye. Pulled up, the car
ticks like a suspect device,
filling the silent street
with hazard lights.
Cracked open, our home-
from-home breathes out
aromas of moth-balled naves
and vaults. Then the bags
are barely down, and the place
is blaring, spitting
...
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