[fishing] Poem by Ulrike Almut Sandig

my cap'n! / sinking the ship
in the afternoon tea, the taciturn
creases on the edge of the table,
corners on corners, tillerman's
talk, folded hands, his
enclosing mine, the right thumb
crossing the other. fishing
for phrases, steering clear
of rain, mumbled bits, smoothing
over covered paper. the clattering spoon
in the glass welcomes you: BE SEATED,
the glittering rotation of sugar and
blessing / we were drifting towards shoals!

Translated by Bradley Schmidt