Poem: Gary Nihsen

Illo for Gary Nihsen's poem, 'Yanis Varoufakis'.

Yanis Varoufakis

into the void I fly

what I mean is, let’s have a cup of coffee sometime

the gorgeous bills of some birds peck indiscriminately at discarded trash

it is not the question of the precipice, but of stepping away, the climb down

I thought we could just see each other around, you know, not by appointment

there is a terror in putting out fires as there is a delight in striking the match

when we run out of things to talk about that silence is neither storm-worthy nor sinkable

for some meals it is the zest of the lemon that ties it all together

I would take your hand as the most intimate and lovely way to abide with you, though it is sweaty and cold

this is not a document of my love

our words are single socks hung over the empty laundry basket

we could meet at my place, but it is such a mess

when our feet speak to each other, they mostly say: Get off of me!

when we lay in bed we are at the mercy of more than gravity

I understand your point as it enters my heart—mine then exits out the other side

to speak of joy is to unravel the knotted ball of yarn

it’s been great to see you, let’s do it again, sometime
Gary Lee Nihsen, born 1962, in Sioux City, Iowa, attended the University of Nebraska, Omaha, studied the German language at the Goethe Institute and Ludwig-Maximilians-Universität in Munich, Germany, and received a MFA from Vermont College, Norwich University. He works as a freelance translator, editor and tour manager and currently resides in Berlin, Germany. He has recent work in Molly Bloom.

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