Jazz with Ella

excerpt

He looked at her fondly. For a moment, there might have been no airport runway, no guard, only that moment over the kitchen table in Leningrad. “I am a bad man for wanting to leave, but I am not so bad that I want you to suffer. If I run, then you must act like you don’t know me. Do you understand?”
“Yes, I understand,” she relented. Again the irony. In that moment that she was supposed to be denying his existence, she discovered that she knew him only too well, better than ever before. “I’m convinced they’re not looking for you,” she told him. “Stay in line. Don’t run. Please.”
The line had ground to a halt and she could see the twins and Ted sitting on their flight bags as if they were in for a long wait. “What’s happening, Ted?” she called out.
He joined them. “The guy in the uniform says that we might as well make ourselves comfortable. Our suitcases are not on this flight—they’re on another one that’s arriving soon—make that ‘soon’ in Soviet time, so who knows when? Then we’re supposed to grab our own bags and go through a security check.”
“What are they looking for?” David and Maria crowded around, encircling Volodya protectively. They want him to be safe, Jennifer thought. It’s touching. “Weren’t we just checked pretty well when we left Moscow?”
“Who knows what they’re looking for? I can tell you one thing, both Hank and Lona are pretty upset. It seems Hank is carrying some of Lona’s things in his luggage and he’s not too happy about them poking through his bags again.”
“Did the uniform tell you where we were?” She asked the question that she knew was on Volodya’s mind.
“He wouldn’t answer,” Ted replied. The last of the colour drained from Volodya’s face, and his eyes cast about wildly sizing up the airport fence and the chain link gate.
“But surely we’re in Sweden or Finland?” David went on, putting one hand on Volodya’s arm, sensing his fear. “They’re entirely too casual here for the Soviet Union. Look—no armed guards or slogans on the wall.”
“Hang in there, Vlad…uh, Paul.” Maria said.
“Yeah, I think you’re right,” Ted replied. “Probably because it’s a military airport, he’s not supposed to tell us much about it.”
“Hey, here comes a plane. Can you beat that? It arrived ‘soon’—just like they said.”

https://draft2digital.com/book/3562892

https://www.amazon.com/dp/1926763246

Yannis Ritsos – Poems, Volume VI

THE SICK MAN

They walk naked to the lighted, dark point of the world.
The statues, also naked, walk next to them, having found
their arms again, their legs, their heads and their usually
cut off genitals or their wings.
Perhaps they stand while darkness stirs towards them,
you can’t tell where the movement is headed, what
and towards where it stirs, however, the sense of
movement is irreversible, steady, and continuous euphoria,
a taste of the royal fruits of the immense Garden, taste
of eternity.
And I truly believe that darkness stirs towards them,
penetrates them, overwhelms them with that beautiful,
dark, cyan expectation, that deep acceptance and nobility
almost indifference, like the night that enters through
the open windows during the summer and erases
the mass of the furniture while it absorbs everything
and, unobstructed, it lights the whole house while
all the small, insignificant things sparkle with subdued
and meaningful glints like bones, and the utensils lose
their a certain stony usefulness and transform into tiny
metal veins amid the heavenly substratum, flexible
veins before they become items or after.

https://draft2digital.com/book/4278093#print

https://www.amazon.com/dp/1926763785

Antony Fostieris – Selected Poems

Poem
Since no definition
is exact
and since out of
a thousand versions
none truly
defines a poem
I imagine these three words
won’t make any difference:
rhythmically
contemplating
emotion.

https://www.amazon.com/dp/1926763653

Opera Bufa

Fourth Hour
I touch the smooth surface of water
like a gleaming unspoiled breast
rippling endless exuberance
as the absurdity of seriousness
stumbles in when He elects
to throw punches at
old philosophically-hardened
Death who laughs His guts
out sending up a pair of
devils disguised with velvet
veils to reduce the game
to a parody of errors while
despicable people persist at
loving and sharing things
like nothing happened
an absurdity of seriousness
revealing the light side of
His rookie mind
committing to place
a few bombs in the hands
of idiots who conspire to
commandeer a future throne
and when the ocean is asked
the question I fume
and turn my eyes away
to avoid seeing the hero’s body
dangling from the tower
priest chanting eulogies
fanatics ooing at the sight
as death vowels chorus in cidal
harmony: who cares?

https://www.amazon.com/dp/1926763092