APRILIA ZANK

APRILIA ZANK

HIS NAME IS PROPHET

inspired by a fellow poet's verse

i see you

drifting above the clouds

as there is no abode for you

beneath their desultory patterns

you with the patch on your right eye

and the knife in your bowels

you with your rice-paper heart

and the tongue of a hundred tongues

you have reached for the holy light

but it blurred to haze

when you touched it

with your trembling hands

you have walked on soot

and begged for shelter

at celestial gates

but nobody washed your feet

or called you prophet

and when you're gone

your words will linger about

homeless

restless

waiting for translation

EARLY SPRING

I stumble

over signs of early spring

buds bound to burst

ahead of time

unaware

of frost yet to come

there is a hint of blue

shimmering through clouds

heavy with random encounters

empty shells of words

journeys

ahead of schedule

I have left them

one by one

to ponder

to germinate

to follow my shadow

among scraggy sunbeams

in early springs

tinged by mud

and the glory

of late inceptions

and you

who sit

on this subway bench

with your old bag

full of

unfinished words

re-patterning syllables

for new vows

mind staring

at migrating birds

on their way home

eager

for the tremor of their wings

in the nest of your belly

we perceive

signs of early spring

unaware

of persistent

patches of ice

CENTRAL STATION

people decently dressed

wait for trains

for connections

for new termini

new chances

longed-for visitors

or just sit around

watching

impassive pigeons

picking at crumbs –

the man with the robe

the colour of

scorched earth

nips off bits of bread

fancying

it tastes better

than the one stuck

in a corner of his mind

across the rails

huge screens rotate

images of prosperity

shiny roadsters

faces clean shaven like marble

breasts shimmering

through high-tech lace

a sudden thought

a shiver

the intimation of a silhouette

that could be his daughter's

the bread in his hand

feels like earth

like the scorched earth

he had left behind

callous fingers

knead it to crumbs

the hand opens

but the pigeons are gone

and the Supervisor

rebukes him

with an uncompromising gaze

APRILIA ZANK

Dr. APRILIA ZANK received her PhD degree in Literature and Psycholinguistics for her thesis THE WORD IN THE WORD Literary Text Reception and Linguistic Relativity at the Ludwig Maximilian University of Munich, Germany, where she started her academic career as a lecturer for Creative Writing and Translation Theory. She is also a poet, a translator and an editor of anthologies. She writes verse in English and German, and was awarded a distinction at the “Vera Piller” Poetry Contest in Zurich. Her poetry collection, TERMINUS ARCADIA, was 2nd Place Winner at the Twowolvz Press Poetry Chapbook Contest 2013. She translates from and into German, English, French and Romanian (her mother tongues) in collaborative projects with various poets. Aprilia is also a passionate photographer: several of her images are prize winners and have been selected for poetry book covers.