poem index

sign up to receive a new poem-a-day in your inbox

About this poet

Adriano Spatola is the author of The Position of Things: Collected Poems 1961-1992 (Green Integer, 2008).

Secret Last Year (A Calendar Twelve-tone) [4. April, maybe]

Adriano Spatola
The sun is made of many mysterious concepts
cowardly resentments with listless rotation
they say they don't say but they demand attention
something rotten a little enlarged or rosy
a slight lividness applied to our pettiness
with light brush strokes exhausted by the heat
I speak of the heat that spoils and enthuses
of this black and magic heat that doesn't survive
innocuously childish to the organism's purpose
softened by the veritable verities drawing near
in April which is the fourth month of the year

From The Position of Things: Collected Poems 1961-1992 by Adriano Spatola, translated by Paul Vangelisti. Copyright © 2008 by Adriano Spatola and Paul Vangelisti. Used by permission of Green Integer Press.

From The Position of Things: Collected Poems 1961-1992 by Adriano Spatola, translated by Paul Vangelisti. Copyright © 2008 by Adriano Spatola and Paul Vangelisti. Used by permission of Green Integer Press.

Adriano Spatola

Adriano Spatola is the author of The Position of Things: Collected Poems 1961-1992 (Green Integer, 2008).

by this poet

poem
1
in my father's tomb the gods have been buried for millennia
in Crete Mycenae Mexico or Babylon
and your task, young ephebe, is radically changed
we're not talking about singing in chorus by the light of the moon
nor pretending to the warmth of a bonfire shepherding a metallic herd
we're talking about carefully
poem
Georges Seurat
Sunday Afternoon on the Island 
of Grande Jatte (1884-85)


The wonder the sense of lacquered objects
bolted measured tricked out in the clock
generous happy mature penance shadow
that the sun disbanded sews on the leaves
trousers hair parasols and gowns and gloves
anger drowns sighing the
poem
		for Julien & Giulia

(exordium)

this extreme dissolution systematically carried
to the limts of violence and up to the land of fire
up to the stagnant agitation in the rendering of rhythm
to the catastrophes of organisms in casual circumstances
inside the phagocytic cities in bodies