Poetry at Sangam
Poetry at Sangam showcases poetry in English and translations as well as essays on poetics and news of new releases.
Rose,
you knew
how to find God in the heart
of Manhattan, your hands could somehow catch
the aluminum spirals of springs
that hang down from the sky
and then you’d withdraw to a safe distance,
to the only apple tree
in Central Park
and you’d select words,
put them into an apple instead of seeds
and use the springs to send them out into space
you let them go
Rose,
I knew you heard
the voices of generations that got stuck in the air
between Thirty-Fourth Street and Fifth Avenue
you sorted them among busy offices
telephone cables and telegraphs to Europe
as well as on the New York taxicab frequency
and the drivers, cheerful and indifferent,
accepted their dispatches
drove toward nonexistent addresses
wandered
vanished
liberated