Daniel Powell 1 p.m., March 19
- Gabriel Olearnik
Two poems by Gabriel Olearnik
His third collection, Wolf Sermons, is scheduled to be released this fall
- The sea has soaked my heart
- and so my soul will take the road
- the spume playing
- a billow on a bright wind.
- And if I am alone, it does not matter
- for Poseidon is a friend again
- the east wind my brother
- the plumes are like the furrowed earth
- the spray is like the tears of god.
- Arcadia is ahead, the place where
- sails pass for tents, anchors turn to plows
- where oars are a thresh for grain
- where hearts find their native land.
- Stay like the woodsmoke
- between cut boughs
- of pine.
- Settle like the strike
- of bells
- on fastnesses
- of mountain white.
- For here is also Tao
- Confucius waiting on the road
- for new disciples, a mulberry bush, a bird
- Here Herodotus is leaving Harcarnassus
- Buddha is being born
- A Republic dimly considered
- A tyrant choked with a pillow
- Here the voice
- brilliant as magnesium
- (because I love you
- you will not die).
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