Whose Hope Lies in the Ocean by Zachary Bos

やゝ年も暮 (Bashō) ‘Gradually the year drew to its close…’ (trans. Keene) I WE DISEMBARKED AT THE SUBWAY stop closest to the beach. Like ritualists we walked from the underground station into the open air, into the winter seaside sunshine, passing from unimpressive afterlife into the waking world, from tomb to lambent promenade. I said this […]