View Archives by:


The Market in Ceske Budejovice
(and how things get there) - Part 4

Marcela Sulak

Tell me, Ramon, if you know,
why, beside the raspberries,

three keys jingle, the newspaper spreads,
a tear on the corner, a soup spot beneath,

a lettuce, a snail, a bit of dirt.
                                        Tell me
Ramon Fernandez, why, when the striped

arm drifted down, a head tilted, an eye
closed, a light yellow ticket slipped

under a work shoe, the hay at the windows
billowed beside the boys with pitch-

forks, the babicky with wrinkled
bellies in panties and wobbly tans,

the pears and plums and cherries fell
trembling like church bells.

Marcela Sulak

Read Bio

Author Discusses Poems