Anna Glazova
berlin
a bloated face. with the fust
of the humid jaundiced ash
of the bovey coal the mouth
of berlin will pant right into the face – mine still mine
still the face – how many times
the city you’ll say the word alien.
like a smack off the berlin wall
with the physiopsycholechery
of berlin the dear hungry mouth
will ravage my alien lips:
how many times will i bite and lap up
the cruelly grey
palate over berlin
Translated by Max Nemtsov
Page(s) 64
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