(The Pomegranate-Dress) | Poetry by Joseph Zaresky | HEAT (1996)

Basket

Your basket is empty.

(The Pomegranate-Dress)

Four women came to visit me.
They all wore the same dress.
Not four identical dresses
but one dress encased all the four women.
How was this possible?
The dress was like a large pomegranate.
Each had her place within it.
They stood in a diamond formation:
one leading, two wings,
the fourth making up the rear.
Naturally they had to walk in the same direction,
sit at the same time,
and stand up as one.
They were willing
for the sake of wearing this dress
on their visit to me.
I served them tea and bought cakes.
Naturally we talked at length about the dress.
They wore sunglasses
with cat’s-eye frames as accessories.
I fell in love with them
though I had known them for a long time.
I wanted to take them out of the dress,
but it was not easy.
They managed to free their breasts.
The dress wasn’t designed
to be removed any further.
It was a creation of Balenciaga.
All this happened many years ago
when Balenciaga was at his height.

More from this issue View all

|

From Dreamtime Alice

HEAT 1
1996
I was raised with ghosts. They were always there, lurking about the upright piano and watching me as I slept. They wrote notes to my parents on the big sheets of butchers’ paper which were spread across the living-room floor each night.
Read more

Masked Ballsor, All Translators are Faithless

HEAT 1
1996
As Wittgenstein said, translating is an exact art. That’s why the interesting thing one notices immediately about good writing in translation is the notion of care, of close attention, of stillness and of shape. Translation is above all an ideational endeavour, a reaching towards hidden absolutes, and its texture is as distinct a piece of language experience as philosophy or art.
Read more

More by Joseph Zaresky