Press 1



Poetry by
Daniela Elza

Blood by Mario Sánchez Nevado
Blood by Mario Sánchez Nevado


“So this is how it begins—
A simple line, drawn to make a point
of entry. And by that act
‘something’ is enclosed. An accumulation
is set in motion.”

from Surplus by Roger Farr






memory calculus


march snow—
salt           on my black jacket
memory dusts           the dark surface of


(Now.                  march salt—
just enough        to make me notice
this moment               on my shoulder.


crystal       after crystal               (Past
the corner of               my eye
melts.


I try to capture           this fractal of
(                         all that is left—
march snow


lingering.           memory
salt
on a black sleeve—


a snow       drop       when I touch it
a snowflake—
infinitely differential


while I watch it        fall
on the surface of
this  moment.




On “asphalt spring”:
A man came into the big bookstore I was working in at the time and offered to clean the parking lot for a dollar. It was a large parking lot and it needed cleaning. The manager turned him away. The cherry blossoms were flying around and lined the corners of streets and pavements. The contrasts were irresistible. All that congealed into this small poem. Which later opened up into a circle, giving the reader a bit of difficulty reading across, reconciling the gaps. The eye wants to slide down and around the circle: that is another way of looking at things.

“memory calculus” was inspired by a March snow so fine it could have been salt. My interest and curiosity were cut short with the quick melting of each unique flake and how they flooded me with memories. How these memories in turn melted away on this city pavement I was walking. So I was stuck between these changes and how memory changes us.