Rosa Alice Branco. Translated by Alexis Levitin.
You lean forward and stumble over what once was:
the horse’s leap before check mate, before memory
could move the position of our roots. How to escape the vicious game
I’m walking to the convenience store
which isn’t convenient because it never carries
the things I need: love, acceptance, encouragement.
On a frigid Yooper day, Northern Michigan is
sawdust pie frozen on a sill.
Marie de France. Translated by David Slavitt
It hasn’t happened lately, but then
every once in a while some men
were transformed into werewolves and went
into the forests where they spent
their lives doing mischief. They would eat
anybody they happened to meet.