Poppyseeds in Bucharest
Sara Adams The Romanian mac has almost replaced my own, native-tongue word for poppy seed It’s efficient, stealthy, like Bucharest commuters who have taken great care to diminish visual evidence of any kind of relaxation or enjoyment which may have occurred the previous night In regards to relaxation and enjoyment, the train station is both pre- and post-, a tunnel missing the good parts The only form of lightness, of peace, is pretzels (a pretzel with mac, thirty cents at the entrance and carried forth through the tunnels like a torch) Or, ten pretzels. For three dollars, in Bucharest, you could have a commuter train pretzel hanging from each of your fingers, or maybe even spinning, mac flying all over your fellow commuters If you were good enough, If you could actually spin all ten pretzels at the same time, you probably wouldn’t have to get on the train at all |
Sara Adams is a Montessori teacher in Portland, Oregon. She has work in lit mags such as DIAGRAM (forthcoming), tNY Press's Electronic Encyclopedia of Experimental Literature, and Shampoo Poetry. Her first micro-chapbook, Poems for Ivan, is forthcoming from Porkbelly Press. More info and links at www.kartoshkaaaaa.com.
W. Jack Savage is a retired broadcaster and educator. He is the author of seven books including Imagination: The Art of W. Jack Savage (wjacksavage.com). To date, more than fifty of Jack’s short stories and over six-hundred of his paintings and drawings have been published worldwide. Jack and his wife Kathy live in Monrovia, California.
W. Jack Savage is a retired broadcaster and educator. He is the author of seven books including Imagination: The Art of W. Jack Savage (wjacksavage.com). To date, more than fifty of Jack’s short stories and over six-hundred of his paintings and drawings have been published worldwide. Jack and his wife Kathy live in Monrovia, California.
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