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Everywhere it smells like
swimming pools
The sun deep inside the sense
of summers.
The great shine of car-tops.
Where am I going again?
Where am I traveling still?


Tryfon Tolides


From the editor's desk

"Untitled" dares to admit swimming pool chlorine and car tops into its summers. Listening to the apparently modern-divested coda, causes the whole poem to swerve into  Robert Creeley’s mood in  "Kore" (". . . Love, where are you leading me now ?")
The striking last beat in "Untitled" invites referencing Murray Krieger’s "EKPHRASIS: Or the Still Movement of Poetry," a wide circling  of Lessing’s (and Keats’s "Ode Upon a Grecian Urn;" and Wallace Stevens’s "Anecdote of the Jar") treatment of the relatonship between the arts, i.e., music and painting. So, back to Tolides’s beloved Greeks, for most of whom the term "Ekphrasis" is short for Dionysius of Phourna’s eighteenth century guide for the making of eastern orthodox style iconography.