telephone series two.b: “Untitled” by Bruna Mori




Vertical Air






Calculate time from when light relents to clouds to when rain begins. Chaos stirs space, fixing points after moving in basins of attraction. Though my formulas define it, I think turbulence is confused.


The dean called it sleight of hand. Not reading Lacan but the book of kissing. Back when I was trying to convey holes in the universe, my case was not made.


As subjects searched for their subjectivity on and off cliffs, upturned in art-school coffee, I plotted ceiling sounds above, traveled an air conditioner’s length, dreamt of measured things.




At the cliffs we sketched the parachuters.


I mean it was the coffee that fueled our sketching of the parachuters.


Or maybe the parachuters sketched the experience of themselves parachuting over coffee.


Rather, under coffee, are the images of the parachuters falling.


Matching coffee cups seem to mount the parachutes.


A reflection of a parachuter in the coffee resides over the image of the parachuter under the coffee.


Based on the parachuters outside our window, since we are at the cliffs, or based on a photo of the parachuters while we were at the cliffs last summer.


They are on the table. The table in fact holds the representation of the parachuters and the coffee.


We are looking down at the parachuters under the coffee allowing us an aerial view.


Though we are not aerial, it is the photographer who is standing who is allowing us aeriality.


Or maybe after drinking coffee we feel like parachuting.


Or maybe we left our coffees behind after sketching parachuters and photographing them to return to bed.


One of the parachuters is upside down and sideways based on the orientation of this image of the table.


We can see the underside of a parachute as though we are looking up at the other. Yet we are above the image looking down on it on the table.


It may have been a romantic day I can’t recall.


But the images of the parachuters taking a chance seem to suggest there was some adventure.




Bruna Mori
 is the author of Dérive (Meritage Press), a book of New York cityscape poems with sumi-ink paintings by Matthew Kinney, andTergiversation (Ahadada Books), a chapbook of homophonic and sensorial translations of the poetry of Alejandra Pizarnik.

translated from:

telephone series two: “Still Life With Drips At The Paralax Cafe” by Sean Sullivan



Comments are closed.