Yaakov Bitov
In the house, on a bike——whispering. She was killed on Passover. She
was sweeping. She was so afraid. This woman who checked him nightly.
Checked his balls and checked his brain. Rocked him like an orphan
monkey rocks itself. And, so. Like taking down a movie set, and, then,
sitting in it. Like painting a Buddha, and smashing it. He’s out by the pool
but there is no pool. Grass, but no. He is going. He needs to. Like Samuel
Beckett. He is famous already.
was sweeping. She was so afraid. This woman who checked him nightly.
Checked his balls and checked his brain. Rocked him like an orphan
monkey rocks itself. And, so. Like taking down a movie set, and, then,
sitting in it. Like painting a Buddha, and smashing it. He’s out by the pool
but there is no pool. Grass, but no. He is going. He needs to. Like Samuel
Beckett. He is famous already.
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Rauan Klassnik lives in Mexico. His poems have been published in The Mississippi Review, The Kennessaw Review, The North American Review, No Tell Motel, Sentence, Caesura, Sleepingfish, MiPoesias and others. His first book, Holy Land, is out from Black Ocean Press and an e-chapbook Ringing released in Feb. 2009 from Kitchen Press. Rauan blogs regularly.