The Brooklyn Rail

MAR 2019

All Issues
MAR 2019 Issue
Poetry

Silence As Instrument Too

 

Silence as Instrument Too



Floating, boasting. The adulation and manshelf of 1948, all the dinners. A falling out with the tailor, the boardwalk
walk of a lady, the souvenir swan mug you can’t use or give away. Beetle tiger beetle water beetle bug. Beginning sunset
beginning sonnet. Buggery and plume.

As soon as possible under earth. Transmitters, a carrier wave. A modern pinprick: false teeth, false teeth, the dead a comma
the dead. Two unmarried sisters, a circle, a small drink of night water
that is sign. You beggar you pass you thief.

 

 

 

Silence as Instrument Too

Structure and development of cyclones. What kind of act 1975? Send from earth into sphere. Listen for five and five,
a turbulence. What is meant from the pact act pact: manipulation of values, the metal sound of an empty kicked can,
the blindspot at your ten your two.

Sort mine time, an example of nine live, a new junk bond. What sort of trash should you wear? Try the following
experiment: copper play, tantamounting deed, you know: that backyard sort.

 

 

 

Silence as Instrument Too

I’m useless unless grackel unless whistle.
The instrument wheeling, yes, I am good. Broken glass. An astranuat door, the dear separation,
a song. Ok: given distance.                     Okay, fine: what listens you in.

 

Contributor

Sarah Passino

Sarah Passino's most recent work has appeared in DIAGRAM, Poetry Daily, and Boston Review's collection What Nature. She has poems forthcoming in Berkeley Poetry Review and in Capital and Ritual, a collaborative anthology by Wendy's Subway and the Bard Graduate Center. She received the Rachel Wetzsteon Poetry Prize from the 92nd Street Y and was a 2018 Poets House Fellow.

close

The Brooklyn Rail

MAR 2019

All Issues