Marius Surleac


Marius Surleac









back then on the hospital bed when

you couldn’t decide whether penumbra belongs


to the day itself or if vertigos make you feel like

there’s no universe between the doors of a heart bump



that moment when you see nothing but

the voice of a flesh fairy that sounds like


piano strings moving the dust while a story

teller finds the end clearer within perfusions



make your roots lost when her

touch on the brow thunders each limb


& a minute of ages passed by with a scythe

making you cry making you die…






today’s the labour day

& people get off their boxes


somehow they move slower on sidewalks straight

into invisible lines with the brooms on shoulders


today’s an odd day & only a few cars go with the flow

leaving no bruise within the time-lapse brains


it’s cloudy outside & the grey blocks fade

in the red choreography of enormous kite posters


today we sing & dance with our chests full of hopes

with doves caged inside & pushing the ribs fast


no one wants to share the pain in the cheeks

while posing the children in future present


today the puppets swarm on the streets & somehow

it’s nineteen eighty-four and we’re not in a book




purple sky of nowhere


open the windows in the palm of my hand


fingering one by one the trees

the houses breathing smoke

the stars winking at you alone

through the road poles missing

the light in your eyes


melting the milky way in the fountains

& you could catch it with the toes in the loom

sprinkle the dust with the heels

feel how the weights vanish

and don’t let your smile fade

in the sleep of your siblings

because you


will spread life in the whole

galaxy & each atom will dance within

pure thoughts of disaster

like a guitar string

on the soul of a plant












Marius Surleac was published by Pif Magazine, MadHat Lit, Literary Orphans, Prick of the Spindle, Futures Trading, Miracle, NTM, The Ofi Press, Bare Fiction, Atlas and Alice, Posit, Dear Sir, and other journals. He has translated many writers into Romanian, including poetry by Marc Vincenz, Fady Joudah, Susan Lewis, Valzhyna Mort. His book Zeppelin Jack was published by Herg Benet Publishing (2011). His translation of The Propaganda Factory, or Speaking of Trees (by Marc Vincenz), is forthcoming (Tracus Arte Publishing, 2015).

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