Rachelle Rahmé




Alternative


Or perhaps Apollo himself
orders death and sex to twist
like a confection
golden skin on a golden ray
after all we are only human here
being so detectives of glory
and sanguine sweetness
we sniff it out, fall in awe
leer after the radiant
burn-core
gratuitous
gluttony in giving praise
forgivable this vice
so radiant, the shield
sun disc
perhaps the chariot itself
is ignited by the old Zippo





Thru-Vision


Death annuls private naughts
muffled antipodes, essays on blue

Today is my half arm in sleepwalking granite stub
ultra-violet

A solvent worn solitary walk
needless to say sown past the blue door to puce

Without me, my locked iris excepting
scenes in a direct factory landscape for vision







Light as Weapon


When like a child with magnifying glass
I am direct or demonstrative of science
burning in two the halves that part
branch, crawl
reanimate summer’s newly laid tar

Soft wax thinking heats a mutable impression
buds holding onto spring
warm carceral halftones tones
eschew day’s half-
split
cardinal diremption

What one knows and to that effect
imprints in soft wax, my sun
when I
how excessively undivided
an emblem to your losses




Born in Jounieh, Lebanon and based in Brooklyn, New York, Rachelle Rahmé is an independent scholar and poet, author of Count Thereof Upon the Other’s Limbs (2019). Her translation of Georges Bataille, 27 Poems on Death, was recently published by o•blēk editions (2021).  She is a St. Mark’s Poetry Project fellow for 2021-2022.

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