Tuesday poem #538 : Adriana Oniță : Ierbar

 

 

In my thirty-first April pe pământul muritor,
this is how I know I’m getting older:
nu mai am chef să mă plimb prin București.

Stau toată ziua în livadă la Jilava.
I listen to Șerban’s drowsy bees
under the gutui. I sit by the geese
and savour Mimi’s gulaș la pirostrie.
I follow Mihai around the garden
and glue leaves in my notebook.

Leuștean. Lobodă. Maghiran.
Pătrunjel. Roiniță. Rozmarin.
Vreau să desenez frunzele pe de rost,
to inherit amintiri, earn the end of this earth.

I text you a photo of ierbarul meu,
a video of Mimi stirring
ciorba de lobodă cu leuștean,
and you want the recipe.

I look up lobodă and choke on orach.
I look up leuștean and oval my lips into lovage.
A Toronto blogger says “orach is the new kale.”
A Washington blogger says “lovage,
which sounds like ‘love’ and ‘luggage,’
means love-ache, ache being
a medieval name for parsley.”

The more I read
the less I want to translate
leuștean și lobodă
into orach and lovage.

The less I translate
the more I draw
leuștean și lobodă
for you, me, us.

There’s a planet 31 light years away
faţă de pământul nostru muritor.
A year there durează 8 ore.

Let’s stay here, în livadă la Jilava.
Citim de la 11 pană la 7, desculți, cu părul ud.
We’ll label leaves, catalogue the corners
of leuștean, lobodă, maghiran,
pătrunjel, roiniță, rozmarin.

 

 

 

Adriana Oniță [photo credit: Shawna Lemay] is a poet, artist, educator, and researcher with a PhD in language education. She writes and teaches in English, Romanian, Spanish, French, and Italian. As founding editor of The Polyglot, Adriana is proud to have published more than 200 writers and artists working in over 55 languages. Her recent multilingual poems appear in CBC Books, The Globe and Mail, and Tint Journal. She is also the author of two chapbooks: Misremembered Proverbs (above/ground press, forthcoming 2023) and Conjugated Light (Glass Buffalo, 2019). Adriana works as editorial director for the Griffin Poetry Prize and lives between Edmonton and Sicily. Discover her work at adrianaonita.com, and connect with her on social media: IG: adi.onita, Twitter: adi_onita, FB: Adriana Onita.

the Tuesday poem is curated by rob mclennan

Tuesday poem #537 : Kate Spencer : methamphetamine

 

 

 

I paint my mirror each morning
to maintain the body bound up
in our decade of leaving.
Grief slipped on like a dress
over fragments, my hepatitis
skin and weak tendons. Today,
I lean hard into a burnt crystal
ball, and cook its future
into clenched teeth.

 

 

 

 

 

Kate Spencer hails from small town Saskatchewan. She received a Bachelor of Arts Honours in 2017 and a Masters of Arts in 2020 from the University of Regina. Throughout her studies, she split her focus between poetry, specifically Confessional, and Modernist literature, completing her graduate thesis on James Joyce. Lately, she runs a small business with her spouse and picks up after two new puppies. Cradle and Spoon is her first book.

the Tuesday poem is curated by rob mclennan

Tuesday poem #536 : Caelan Ernest : THE SWITCHBLADE IN MY GUT COALESCES WITH MY INNER FORM

 

 

THE SWITCHBLADE IN MY GUT COALESCES INTO MATERIAL
MY ENTRAILS SPUTTER INSIDE BEFORE LEAVING
AN IRIDESCENT PEARL THAT SHINES LIKE GASOLINE

THE MOON REFLECTS AGAIN
-ST MY SLICKED UP BODY
HOT OIL RUNS DOWN THE SIDES

YOU CAN’T TOUCH ME THERE
YOU CAN’T HOLD ME
I’VE GOT A KNIFE IN MY GUT

HOT OIL RUNS DOWN THE SIDES
I’M WARNING YOU
YOU WON’T WANT TO TOUCH

 

 

 

 

 

Caelan Ernest is a nonbinary poet and performer living in Brooklyn. They are the author of two collections: night mode (2023) and ICONOCLAST (2024), both from Everybody Press. Most recently, their work has been published in Blush Literature, them., WUSSY, Hayden’s Ferry Review, and elsewhere. They hold an MFA in Writing from Pratt Institute. They are Publicist at Graywolf Press.

the Tuesday poem is curated by rob mclennan