Tortured

For You Shall Be Called to Account

The ancestors of everyone I’ve let into my body

are gathered in a small room with one window,

no lights. Yes, the room is crowded. Yes, there

are no chairs. Yes, they are talking. Why are we

here, says the Nazi resister. Where are the chairs,

says the Viking (no horns). Where is...

Leah Horlick

Nocturne for a Moving Train

The trees I’ve glimpsed from the window

of a night train were

the saddest trees.

 

They seemed about to speak,

then—

             vanished like soldiers.

 

The hostesses handed out starched linens for sleep.

Passengers bent over small icons

of sandwiches.

 

In a tall glass, a spoon...

Valzhyna Mort

Un Docteur Anglophone Traduit Les Inquiétudes De Son Patient Avec Google/An English Speaking Doctor Translates the Concerns of his Patient with Google