Poem of the Month
Sound No 2

By Gillian Sze

Published on November 6, 2017

Cinema could be as intelligent and could transport as much message and image and idea as it can with sound.

— Werner Schroeter

There are things I want to show you, like the empty pause that encircles desire. Or how Klimt knew that a woman bends her neck that far for a kiss only if she really wants it. I want to show you how quiet it gets when you’re in the company of someone who no longer loves you. I want to remind you of that unseasonable memory when I bloomed the reddest flowers. Who knew an instant could be so endless and vacant. I want to point out the stony space that the dead take up, that an epitaph is always too short, and that death’s impetuous timing is measured by all the books that will never be read. But more than anything, I want to show you something smaller: how the smell of winter at night has the same crisp scent as the sound of the word biscuit, the touch of velum in your mouth.

More Poetry

Unsigned City

I detail the verbal exchanges with the affronted voyager on distant terraces, each equivalent in the space of the citation. Attempt in the morning: the magnolia garden inspecting its blue lack. Through the telescope, beautiful women make jewellery and dissolve in water.

Vibration Desks

Inside its surround
folded in, I’m a fold
of it, I’ve never left atmospheric
borders I engorge to the point of
enfolded

The Kingdom Is

The kingdom is up to you. Like the manette the cashier hands you at the grocer’s — “your turn”; “c'est à vous.”