Mary Ocher

Here are two poems by Mary Ocher,born in Moscow in 1986, grown up Here
Tel Aviv and now resident in Berlin.

Proper Adjustments

Big blue veins
I wish they’d be any other color
but blue
But they don’t care, see -
Opposing your wishes
they grow and spread and take hostage
of the body
as it opens,
and the blue veins conquer:
We have always been"
the emperors,
We have always ruled
this waste-place,
and nobody else but us”.


To the chair,
To the gas, to the gas,
to the fire,
To the gulling grip of the mass.
be it shameful, be it rare.
The all-consuming hell,
And the flames, small, they turn
Laughing jauntily, at our paralyzing roar,
powerless, slimly, morose,
The fire laughs, then so it goes
A flair streams up the spine,
To the head, to the mind,
To the chair,
To the gas, to the ground.
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