{"id":6033,"date":"2019-03-19T14:41:37","date_gmt":"2019-03-19T14:41:37","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/narrativenortheast.com\/?p=6033"},"modified":"2019-03-22T11:31:14","modified_gmt":"2019-03-22T11:31:14","slug":"two-poems-anton-yakovlev","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/narrativenortheast.com\/?p=6033","title":{"rendered":"TWO POEMS – Anton Yakovlev"},"content":{"rendered":"

NATURALIZED<\/strong>
\n 
\nThe blinds on your windows have learned to make their own movies
\nand long outclass your transactions with ocean fleece.
\n 
\nNaturally predisposed to back flips,
\nyou\u2019ve become a dehydrated plant wrapped around a mostly-forgotten statue
\nno one will ever use
\nuntil rearranged
\ncontinents admit something
\nand no one is there to be their tree in the forest.
\n 
\nIt\u2019s been years since blood pumped through garden hoses,
\nbut you still remember every death.
\nStars forgot how to spy on you,
\nbut you continue to feel their spying
\ndue to the same delay that will make them visible
\neven after their Yorick moments.
\n 
\nYou want people to play tennis with what you say,
\nbut an immigrant child in the village frog pond
\nscreamed for help in his own language and drowned.
\n 
\nYou wander through the tail days of summer
\nsearching for pumpkin beer in immigrant stores,
\nputting ice on your creepy neck
\nand rye from closed distilleries in your cheeks.
\n 
\nThey\u2019ve spurned you by playing you
\nthe unauthorized director\u2019s cut of your movie
\n 
\nuntil you hoped for more allergies.
\nNow every reed bends lower than the river.
\n 
\nFake meat arrives in the mail.
\nThere cannot be any questions.
\n 
\nEvery car you cry in suggests a joke.
\n 
\nThe wooden huts of the people you recall out of so-called nowhere
\nhop around your front yard on their chicken legs.
\nThe people will not come out.
\n 
\nYour Arc de Triomphe fell asleep
\nand went off the road last night.
\n <\/p>\n

\n

 
\nBREAK<\/strong>
\n 
\nSunlight looks great on your brush
\nbut no paint ever sticks to the canvas
\nand how can you burn a painting until there is<\/em> a painting?
\nThrow your paint and see it stop in mid-air.
\n 
\nAir rolls in air, polluted with Prince Oblonsky smiles.
\n 
\nThey rolled away your baby grand years ago,
\nand did you ever believe in hammers?
\n 
\nYou could write a letter to a lapsed friend, detailing
\nthat restless cardinal\u2019s rap chorus outside
\nyour window. You know that could be enough.
\n 
\nSomething squats in your aorta.
\n 
\nLately you\u2019ve been overcomplicating things
\nlike love, drowning it in folklore.
\n 
\nBooze feels like ballroom dancing.
\n 
\nYour doppelganger is a pizza joint
\nin the township on the other side of the median
\ncovered with cartoons
\nfull of ambition
\nto make miracles you can\u2019t get rid of.
\n 
\nVisitors write religions on paper planes.
\nDeath would validate things, but its microphone is broken.
\nBetter wait for another god to roll by.
\n 
\nAfter all, it\u2019s twenty minutes to your next brain.
\n 
\n <\/p>\n

\"\"Anton Yakovlev’s latest chapbook Chronos Dines Alone<\/i>, winner of the James Tate Poetry Prize 2018, was published by SurVision Books. He is also the author of Ordinary<\/span> Impalers<\/span><\/i> (Kelsay Books, 2017) and two prior chapbooks. His poems have appeared in The New Yorker, The Hopkins Review, Measure, Amarillo Bay<\/i>, and elsewhere. The Last Poet of the Village<\/i>, a book of translations of poetry by Sergei Yesenin, is forthcoming from Sensitive Skin Books. Yakovlev is the current Education Director at Bowery Poetry Club. He has also written and directed several short films.<\/div>\n
<\/div>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

NATURALIZED   The blinds on your windows have learned to make their own movies and long outclass your transactions with ocean fleece.   Naturally predisposed to back flips, you\u2019ve become a dehydrated plant wrapped around a mostly-forgotten statue no one will ever use until rearranged continents admit something and no one is there to be [&hellip<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":6039,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[4],"tags":[323],"class_list":["post-6033","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-poetry","tag-garden-of-earthly-delights-by-hieronymus-bosch"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/narrativenortheast.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/6033","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/narrativenortheast.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/narrativenortheast.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/narrativenortheast.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/narrativenortheast.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=6033"}],"version-history":[{"count":9,"href":"https:\/\/narrativenortheast.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/6033\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":6066,"href":"https:\/\/narrativenortheast.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/6033\/revisions\/6066"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/narrativenortheast.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/media\/6039"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/narrativenortheast.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=6033"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/narrativenortheast.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=6033"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/narrativenortheast.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=6033"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}