By Nina Cassian
Spanning approximately sixty years, those poems—both new English compositions and Nina Cassian's translations of her paintings in Romanian—blend her gallows humor with an engagement with the human adventure.
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Extra info for Continuum: Poems
It was best like this. blue cheese and chili peppers these women are supposed to come and see me but they never do. there’s the one with the long scar along her belly. ” there’s the one who dances with a boa constrictor and writes every four weeks, she’ll come, she says. and the 4th who claims she sleeps always with my latest book under her pillow. I whack-off in the heat and listen to Brahms and eat blue cheese with chili peppers. these are women of good mind and body, excellent in or out of bed, dangerous and deadly, of course— but why do they all have to live up north?
And then she slammed the car door. it was still 103 degrees. when I opened my mail I found my auto insurance company wanted $76 more. suddenly she ran into the room and screamed, “LOOK, I’M TURNING RED! ALL BLOTCHY! ” “take a bath,” I told her. I dialed the insurance company long distance and demanded to know why. ” I covered the phone and screamed at her in the bathtub: “LOOK! I’M ON LONG DISTANCE! ” the insurance people still maintained that I owed them $76 and would send me a letter explaining why.
Somebody else will have them and I will walk about in my floppy shorts smoking too many cigarettes and trying to make drama out of no damned progress at all. ” I told her she was crazy the cops would get us but she said, “no, it’s nice and foggy,” so we went to the park spread out the equipment and began working and here came headlights— a squad car— she said, “hurry, get your pants on! ” I said, “I can’t. ” one of the cops looked at me and said, “I don’t blame you,” and after some small talk they left us alone.