January 18, 2018 Poetry , POETRY / FICTION

Matthew Henry photo



Alexandre Bartolo Knabah




Logie’s masterpiece



What happens when

we gaze at Logie’s masterpiece?

Do we go suddenly blind,

do our chemical engines


How beautiful it is

when we stand up

for La Marseillaise,

honoring our partisans.

We, comical marshals,

are plunged into

speedy data-

not so printed paperwork.

Looking in retrospect,

do women still get

stigmatized when

their thighs are cut?

Do janjawid still

ride in their fairy tale mares?

How many seisms must

iranians have to go through

so we can remember:

red, green and white

aren’t exclusive to the boots’ country?

My wisdom teeth

are growing and

I still haven’t found

the answer.








His eyes stab her guitar body,

he wants to strum her,

delivering to himself the highest note.

However, he wants to go lower, lower, lower.

He wants to investigate how his

great presence emerged in this world.

An innocent touch, maybe?

A high shiver in his neck

tells him to stretch out his

hands, whilst she stands

in nun’s clothes, vibrant.

He crawls lower, lower, lower.

She sees him, showing

how white she may be. He understands

her pattern, her opening.

When he is ready for

the promised land –


We are all glad

this was just a rehearsal.






Alexandre Bartolo Knabah

Alexandre Bartolo is a brazilian student who graduated from high school in 2015. He began writing poetry after two passings: Leonard Cohen, his hero, and America. He now seeks to be read, and enter medical school so that he can pay the bills. 

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