in the auditorium of several neighboring windows / I see a single moth / as old and miserable as the world

They had already sat down on the bed. Then the man remembered the back door was still open.

My daughter marches through the forest. She can’t do it herself, so / she uses my legs, my eyes and my fear.

I retrace my steps, barefoot and diligent as a shipwreck

In the end his body puked him out / as if it were only a stomach / and a mouth. It didn’t let him / just slip away.

Animated excerpt from Czech surrealist poet Vítězslav Nezval's poem cycle "Bizarre Town." Translated by Stephan Delbos and Tereza Novická. Published in The Absolute Gravedigger by Twisted Spoon Press, 2016.

occasionally there is too much ado / about night-time, that’s fine, turn out the light / and slide me in the grave, this time I’m through / with sounds and lights, for me now dreams feel right

I don’t know how and why I should even tell you, / since time has only heightened our estrangement, / that you’ve made me a man.

My heart is heavier than it was last year, / with love.