CAROLINE CARVER

Comfort Zone

my father’s lap is a hedged garden
his jacket a broad expanse of uncut grass
where smoke lingers
like autumn bonfires

sometimes we talk of large and small:
where I came from
where ants go when they die
the size of the ocean he will cross tomorrow

he says giants arrive in the evenings when no one is looking
they are especially fond of beanstalks
grow them so high
they can build castles on top of them

I say the gurgling sounds in his stomach
are made by pixies
running round his engine room
deciding what to keep and what to throw away

there’s always a happy order to these afternoons
soon he’ll stand and throw me into the giants’ sky
we pretend I won't come down
and we’ll never have to say goodbye.

Cristina Florea

Caroline Carver
 

Spatiul alinarii
 

poala tatalui meu e o gradina imprejmuita
haina lui o mare intindere de iarba netaiata,
unde fumul persista
ca dupa un foc in aer liber toamna

uneori discutam nimicuri insemnate
de unde am aparut eu,
unde ajung furnicile dupa ce mor,
marimea oceanului pe care-l va strabate maine

imi spune ca in prag de seara apar uriasii, cand nu-i vede nimeni
le plac mai ales vrejurile de fasole,
le lasa sa creasca inalte inalte
si construiesc castele deasupra lor

eu spun ca sunetele galgaitoare din stomacul lui
sunt facute de zane
care alearga in jurul camerei motoarelor
si decid ce trebuie pastrat si ce trebuie eliminat

exista o ordine vesela a lucrurilor in aceste dupa-amieze
in curand el se va opri si ma va arunca spre cerul uriasilor
ne prefacem ca eu nu mai cobor
si ca nu va trebui sa ne spunem vreodata adio.