Alina Gregorian




It was tomorrow when we ordered the clouds by number.

The state moved to the west.

I had a dream in a dream; you were in the middle of those dreams.

We have so much to say about so little.

You were the capital of the state, and a building was constructed while you slept.

Who put the roof on the building?

The forgotten hours in our most immediate past.

Who placed you on this arid land?

The decorative heroes who run laps in ferns.


It's 1922 again. The lamps are sideways for the speech.

Did you write a novel for the secretary? Have you forged through a dozen cubicles?

Let's leave the state while the state still exists.

After all, we are sculptures in a field with no soldiers.

And when the tide comes in we are free.