March 2017

Le Fleuve de Héraclite

C’est le mien, c’est le mien, c’est le mien
Un fleuve coulera en temps
Héraclite était un homme
mais n’est pas dans la présent

Où est-ce que je serai
quand je m’assieds dans l’eau ?
Je vais penser en baignant
mais le passé est seul un morceau celui je ne dois pas tenir

J’aimerais savoir
ma signification dans le monde J’aimerais aimer
les derniers et future ans étendentJe suis Héraclite et je suis le mien Le euve de temps C’est le tien

— Ned Russin

Egg Bread, Twin Braid

To braid a bread begin
by moving upwards,
melting lines of yeasted dough of meticulous blending

by moving upwards
berating the shape of
dough of meticulous blending
which rises in leavened breaths

creating the shape by
the way this works according to form
which rises in layered breaths
at first, and

the way this works according to form
is the second becomes
the first, and
third becomes the last

the second becomes
braided, tug of the yeast at the
third becomes the last
while moving upward,

braided, each tug of the yeast
finishes the line
while moving upward;
to braid a bread, begin.

— Joelle Milman

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