Poems by Vincent Katz

Unbewusste Orte

One likes to dance,
another needs to
tighten her wheel.

Every moment
is innocence.

They carry those little
packages behind them.

Shit is earth.

What motivated
“Machine Gun” Kelly?
Certainly not poetry
in that battered past.

Wisps of notes.
A wisp of a girl.

Feuilles Tourbillonnantes

Now I’m away from forgiven
the netted mastery slides weekly
on, offended robotic slur
presage Rommel inveterate clutch

shinsplint ideogram
Malbec gelding
you land on a silver
crash aflow with life’s
hum in squawks.
I’m liberally hung
to fry all time.
But you so bootifal.
Christ, thought he was
gonna stifle himself.

Cold jones it.
Running this badge
of security a fall
time.  And you’re
with me, so no excuses.
This merits hand-held.
Thank you, kind
protectress resounding
exclamations of
harbored ecstasy.

Vincent Katz is a poet, translator, and editor, living in New York, whose most recent publication is The Complete Elegies of Sextus Propertius (Princeton).  “Unbewusste Orte” may be translated as “Unconscious Places” and “Feuilles Tourbillonnantes” as “Swirling Leaves”.