Interlitq tiene el agrado de informar a sus lectores que su poema en inglés para el 24.02.12 será “Nightmares” por la poeta de Nueva Zelanda Siobhan Harvey, que contribuyó a las ediciones 10, 12 and 14 de Interlitq

Acerca de Siobhan Harvey:

Siobhan Harvey is the author of Our Own Kind: 100 New Zealand Poems about Animals (Random House NZ, 2009). Her poetry has been published in international magazines and anthologies such as Booknotes – New Zealand Book Council Magazine, fin (UK), foam:e (Aus), In the red (UK), and Landfall. She is the Poetry Editor of Takahe magazine and was 2009 Auckland Regional Council Writer in Residence. Her first New Zealand poetry collection, Lost Relatives (Steele Roberts, 2011) has just been released.

Interlitq is delighted to inform its readers that its poem in English for 24.02.12 will be “Nightmares” by New Zealand poet Siobhan Harvey, a contributor to Issues 10,12 and 14 of Interlitq

About Siobhan Harvey:

Siobhan Harvey is the author of Our Own Kind: 100 New Zealand Poems about Animals (Random House NZ, 2009). Her poetry has been published in international magazines and anthologies such as Booknotes – New Zealand Book Council Magazine, fin (UK), foam:e (Aus), In the red (UK), and Landfall. She is the Poetry Editor of Takahe magazine and was 2009 Auckland Regional Council Writer in Residence. Her first New Zealand poetry collection, Lost Relatives (Steele Roberts, 2011) has just been released.

In a recently posted video interview (Beauty & Consolation), Martha Nussbaum, a Consulting Editor for Interlitq, discusses both uplifting and troubling aspects of her childhood

In a recently posted video interview (Beauty & Consolation), Martha Nussbaum, the American philosopher who is currently Ernst Freund Distinguished Service Professor of Law and Ethics at the University of Chicago, and who is a Consulting Editor for Interlitq, discusses both uplifting and troubling aspects of her childhood.

Interlitq tiene el agrado de publicar su poema en inglés para el 23.02.12, “Somehow Dreaming Politics” por el poeta de Miami, Michael Hettich, que contribuyó a la edición 13 de Interlitq

 

Somehow Dreaming Politics

 

In an overgrown orchard, a fox finds a doll

in a shoebox by the stone wall, and he sniffs her up and down

before picking her up in his mouth—by the leg,

which was already twisted unnaturally. He carries her

into the woods, while in a distant city

a well-dressed middle-aged woman peruses

the dolls displayed in an upscale toy store

until she decides on her favorite, which she

unpacks from its box with a few deft twists,

slips into her oversized purse, then walks

nonchalantly outside, to hail a taxi

which takes her to a hospital full of children who are dying

by themselves, and she walks from room to room

holding that doll out like a magic potion.

Fox-babies, called kits, love dolls, which makes them

almost human. No it doesn’t. On the beach

boys are burying their Ninja-Turtle-GI Joes 

in the wet sand by the dead-low tide line to see

if they’re really heroes, while an old man blows up

a life-sized doll who’s just arrived in the mail,

dresses her up in his late wife’s favorite clothes,

puts a wig on her head, stands her in the corner,

and tells her all his secrets, all the things he couldn’t tell her

when she could talk back. Then he pricks her with a sewing needle,

once. That infamous elementary school

is vacant now except for its closets full of boxes

of anatomically-correct dolls intended

to teach proper etiquette. Have you followed that disaster?

I think someone ate them. Or else the dogs attacked.

In our own school we learned to perform CPR

on life-sized mannequins before we ever tried it

on humans who actually breathed. Crash dummies

are the dolls which the highest percentage of our citizens

wishes they could thank, as we wish we could show gratitude

to certain statues in the park, of those statesmen and warriors

whose names we might otherwise forget, who protected us

from what we’ve never quite known, because they served so well.

 

 

Acerca de Michael Hettich:

Michael Hettich was born in New York City and he grew up in that city and its suburbs. he has lived in upstate NY, Colorado, Northern Florida, Vermont and Miami, where he now lives. His most recent book of poetry, Like Happiness, has just been published by Anhinga Press. Other books include Swimmer Dreams (Turning Point, 2004) and Flock and Shadow: New and Selected Poems (New Rivers Press, 2005). A new book of poems, The Animals Beyond Us, is forthcoming from New Rivers in 2011. His poems have appeared in many journals, among them Orion, New Letters, Prairie Schooner, TriQuarSmartish Pace terly, and Poetry East.

Interlitq is delighted to publish its poem in English for 23.02.12, “Somehow Dreaming Politics” by Miami poet Michael Hettich, a contributor to Issue 13 of Interlitq

 

Somehow Dreaming Politics

 

In an overgrown orchard, a fox finds a doll

in a shoebox by the stone wall, and he sniffs her up and down

before picking her up in his mouth—by the leg,

which was already twisted unnaturally. He carries her

into the woods, while in a distant city

a well-dressed middle-aged woman peruses

the dolls displayed in an upscale toy store

until she decides on her favorite, which she

unpacks from its box with a few deft twists,

slips into her oversized purse, then walks

nonchalantly outside, to hail a taxi

which takes her to a hospital full of children who are dying

by themselves, and she walks from room to room

holding that doll out like a magic potion.

Fox-babies, called kits, love dolls, which makes them

almost human. No it doesn’t. On the beach

boys are burying their Ninja-Turtle-GI Joes 

in the wet sand by the dead-low tide line to see

if they’re really heroes, while an old man blows up

a life-sized doll who’s just arrived in the mail,

dresses her up in his late wife’s favorite clothes,

puts a wig on her head, stands her in the corner,

and tells her all his secrets, all the things he couldn’t tell her

when she could talk back. Then he pricks her with a sewing needle,

once. That infamous elementary school

is vacant now except for its closets full of boxes

of anatomically-correct dolls intended

to teach proper etiquette. Have you followed that disaster?

I think someone ate them. Or else the dogs attacked.

In our own school we learned to perform CPR

on life-sized mannequins before we ever tried it

on humans who actually breathed. Crash dummies

are the dolls which the highest percentage of our citizens

wishes they could thank, as we wish we could show gratitude

to certain statues in the park, of those statesmen and warriors

whose names we might otherwise forget, who protected us

from what we’ve never quite known, because they served so well.

 

 

About Michael Hettich:

Michael Hettich was born in New York City and he grew up in that city and its suburbs. he has lived in upstate NY, Colorado, Northern Florida, Vermont and Miami, where he now lives. His most recent book of poetry, Like Happiness, has just been published by Anhinga Press. Other books include Swimmer Dreams (Turning Point, 2004) and Flock and Shadow: New and Selected Poems (New Rivers Press, 2005). A new book of poems, The Animals Beyond Us, is forthcoming from New Rivers in 2011. His poems have appeared in many journals, among them Orion, New Letters, Prairie Schooner, TriQuarSmartish Pace terly, and Poetry East.