The Shriek On the edge of her lip, like a car balanced on the brink of a precipice, the shriek has halted, swaying. Just one spasm, and all of her anger would gush down noisily, sweeping sighs and placid thoughts away. We could try to rescue those inside the shaky car before it plunges to the bottom of the crag, but nothing curable is in that mouthful of vibrations. And the force of a thousand hurricanes locked in a chest then suddenly released would not suffice to wash such evil. In the end what is unavoidable befalls, and the tenacity of her facial muscles is not worth the trouble. Ineffectual, however long she strives, to hold her breath. No human can contain a lifetime’s pain. The Effort Moon shines while billions of corpses rot beneath earth’s crust. —Shinkichi Takahashi Man’s sight is dim. Man’s look is squint. Man’s eye is corrupt. Man is the end. Man is the end. Not machines, not profit. Man’s effort cannot be vain. Man is no means. Man is the end. Man is the end. Not machines, not profit. Man has to last until the stars decree the end.
Alessio Zanelli is an Italian poet who has long adopted English as his writing language and his work has appeared in over 100 literary magazines from 12 countries including, in the USA, Antietam Review, California Quarterly, Chiron Review, Concho River Review, The Iconoclast, Italian Americana, Main Street Rag, Poesia, Poesy and Potomac Review. He is the author of three collections, most recently Straight Astray, the poetry editor of Private Photo Review, an international magazine of b/w photography and short writings, and a featured poet in the 2006 edition of Poet’s Market. Alessio’s website is here.
Copyright© 2008, by Alessio Zanelli. All Rights Reserved.