Hall Poem by Ruth Lasters

To employ a man or woman
who somewhere full-time in a hall

unfolds chairs
one chair for everything I don't say to you, for every non-

touch. And then to be able to go there, you and I
each separately to sit down there just for a moment, perhaps

counting under our breath the rows of chairs already set out.
Making what didn't happen visible and

visitable.

Translation: Paul Vincent, in collaboration with the author