Two poems by Ester Naomi Perquin. Translated from the Dutch by David Colmer
I wasn’t there that night. And if I was, I didn’t know. Not
that they were drinking, you hear things sometimes,
it’s only now I realize they did something wrong.
I had no idea what was going on, anyway everyone
I saw there left me ou... Read more
In the supermarket upturned octopuses
lie on stones of ice as on a cold beach
or an operating table. Obscene, as they should be
with their legs splayed, their underside
slick soft-blush-pink as a cunt.
Their anonymity is correct,
that they can ... Read more