Travis Macdonald

excerpts from Bookquet

Curator’s Note
The following poems are transcribed directly from text found on the cut and folded petals and blooms of upcycled paper flowers. Proper citation of the source texts is impossible since the titles and content of the books used to create these bouquets are unknown to the curator beyond what he has gleaned through the process of transcription.

                he spent
     y. He disliked being a
in any danger of having to
inability to relax. Alex enter
people back from the studio o
for Vincent or Zolito to remind
els of the past.

             at the Royal w
e in the hotel, his suit
  shoes were handm
       and at
ilm studios we
 for his own use and
    hen his adaptation of
         s”) became the first Hun
              clear that the young K

phere of
counted except
actresses, and
role in family
English ins

    not the dreamy city of Franz
  al conventions had made
xposing disagreeable realities.
 h a huge capital city, rather as
   d. Austrian agriculture could
     so the farmers hoarded their
        existent, since most of the
           ich was now the separate
              collapse of the Aus

      troops marched into
   Rumanians before them,
at that “order would entail
  have remained were system
   pulation of Budapest was
      banks of the Danube

            ants and officers
      thy, with the blessing of
   If the film industry had fasci
out of all proportion in the imag
 movies represented exactly the kin
    at heart, hated most

        hem asked the other.
      replied his companion, “but
    Communist kike, Korda the
 cent manners.”
 I from attacking the two office-
overs and whispering in his ear
  he was in the Gellert and so
     and the elevator

           of these o    mistic
           udio space for th n
0,000 crowns to draw on, A
  urbs of Budapest, with the help

              tune had a good
          followed the sparks in he
    life exceeds in its ruthlessness
 s and rats, and it had bowed him.
hat boundary beyond which one is no
  stubbornly he repeated: “Darling! You
  yourself                                  for me one year

    At the far wall, a
sat on a small bench apar
     and her heart, which 
something which could no
haps he had been sent off on
ing out a special assignment.
secrecy imagined secrets even
   The hot      southern summer burn
   Yet she       on as before, stud
materialis       raid of displeasing

                 torn out the title p
           that no written messages co
     risoner—the inscription must go

  eb told her angrily, “Don’t bring me

ble, one of them a
 none of them. She
  hated convers

the Supreme Cour
he exaggerated the value
not openly
everyone!”             peated ene
                                husbands ar
                                also troubl
                                r’s agil

                                model ha
                             he law nowada
                                   alma’s dict
                                out  t
riage without pay
      most jurisdict

       still a sense of unwavering
   hey might grow into adults who
 conclusions other than the ones in 
s might work well if the morality th
bad, where will we find our dissentin
g, Jr., or Daw Aung San Suu Kyi?
rn is that we really have no adequa
 ange. We can theorize about why
  ery and segregation for three hun
  until the 1960s—but we can never
    people do change their mind
       because somebody else
          because reason their

      es, but it is hurting our
  o not have time to stop and t
 have time to figure out right fro
ve time to live according to our
 simply put, that we do not have

               set down: she
          her discernment of right a
       nd has been willing to say quite
      doing it.
    be satisfied; the reason I chose in
  ng with the discernment of right and
quite simply, that our own beliefs
 uppose one’s principle is, ‘Yield to
 n,’18 Indeed, our own beliefs, no
  bly evil. The philosopher Stuart
   a person has lived a blameless
    es, the question always arises

Travis Macdonald is a poet, copywriter, editor, and small press publisher currently living in Philadelphia. His most recent books include: Title Bout (Shadow Mountain Press 2011), BAR/koans (Erg Arts 2011), Hoop Cores (Knives, Forks and Spoons Press 2011), Sight & Sigh (Beard of Bees 2011), N7ostradamus (BlazeVox Books 2010), Basho's Phonebook (E-ratio 2009) and The O Mission Repo [vol. 1] (Fact-Simile Editions 2008).
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