Rachelle Rahmé
Topiary
I’ve rearranged everything here
hung the quote by the vase
watered the plants.
Lunch is on
I’m talking to myself
I made a fantastic joke
but no one laughed.
Communication problematizes
essence, we all know
what something is really
before we have to say.
When I know who you are
When your mouth is closed
Tombs open linear histories
Fold, get close
that was then.
Anything
The streamlet vapors are dead, to rot, enthusiasm
My son
My liege
Madame
Not to waste night, day, and time
with tedious limbs and flourishes
I will be brief. Are you a wing man?
I am an anything man.
Rachelle Rahmé is an independent scholar and poet. She is the author of Count Thereof Upon the Other’s Limbs (Cixous 72 Press, 2019), and the chapbooks Bataille’s Eggs (blush, 2020) and Puce Commodity (earthbound editions, 2021). Her translations of Georges Bataille, 27 Poems on Death, is forthcoming in 2021 (o•blēk editions). She was recently awarded a fellowship by the Poetry Project for 2021-2022. Her poems have appeared or are forthcoming in The Brooklyn Rail and Fonograf, among others. Born in Jounieh, Lebanon, Rahmé is based in Brooklyn, NY.