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Poem

Julian Talamantez Brolaski

SONG IN THE SHADE

LIED IN HET LOMMER

Belommerd zit je, Calvus, in de wingerd,
En ziet in onze poëzie een wrakingsbron,
Een besogne die ons de dood in slingert?
Je kent toch mijn verknochtheid aan carbon,
Doorslagen vet tegen de slaafse cijfers,
Terloops verlicht, die ik hardnekkig elideer
Al was het maar, mijn voormalige teller,
Om de zee die tijd voor vrijmoed ruilt te treffen.
Wie loopt er zo, als Cypressen in de wind?
Naar Italië met die vuige schofternij
Die onze arbus kroont met een zeeding z’n vin.
Maar wat ben je waanwijs, in de muiterij
            Ik hoor Tuba’s—de runenglossen zijn uniek
            Het licht strooit spikkels over je tuniek.

SONG IN THE SHADE

How shaded you are in the vine, Calvus,
And yet you think our verses will upbraid
And, cataractous, be the death of us?
You see how keen on carbon copies I’m uplaid,
All unctuous against the slavish numbers,
Lit glancingly, I doggedly elide
If only to broach, my sometime counter,
The sea that barters its clock for candor.
Who walks that way, like Cypress in the wind?
To Italy with that monstrous villainy
That crowns our arbus with a sea-thing’s fin.
Yet how breezy you are, in the mutiny
    I hear Tubas—the glosses are runic
    The light makes dapples all along your tunic.  
Julian Talamantez Brolaski

Julian Talamantez Brolaski

(United States of America, 1978)

Julian Talamantez Brolaski is a two-spirit and transgender poet of mixed Mescalero and Lipan Apache, Latin@, and European heritages. Brolaski has published four poetry collections, including Of Mongrelitude (Wave Book, 2017), which was a Finalist for the Lambda Literary Award. It is also the lead singer and rhythm guitarist in the country bands Juan & the Pines and the Western Skyline. Brolaski...

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SONG IN THE SHADE

How shaded you are in the vine, Calvus,
And yet you think our verses will upbraid
And, cataractous, be the death of us?
You see how keen on carbon copies I’m uplaid,
All unctuous against the slavish numbers,
Lit glancingly, I doggedly elide
If only to broach, my sometime counter,
The sea that barters its clock for candor.
Who walks that way, like Cypress in the wind?
To Italy with that monstrous villainy
That crowns our arbus with a sea-thing’s fin.
Yet how breezy you are, in the mutiny
    I hear Tubas—the glosses are runic
    The light makes dapples all along your tunic.  

SONG IN THE SHADE

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