{"title":"低音音符和:温度","authors":"Leopoldine Core","doi":"10.1353/tyr.2023.a908671","DOIUrl":null,"url":null,"abstract":"Bass Notes, and: Temperatures Leopoldine Core (bio) Bass Notes The beautiful, slightlypurposeful way youmoved downMadison Avenue Red-gold hairgrowing out of thedeepest bass notesin the moonlight yousummonedand stood ineven at 11am deeply femalethoughonce you said youwere also a mannamed Rocky. An orange dress flappedaround your slippersas you scuffed upthe thin grey stepsof the Met How intrepid this city can be. [End Page 51] I saw a paisleypatterned moth out onthe ledge big as a hummingbirdbut risking its veil—stillness and feet That's a good omen, you saidto see a nighttime ghostwhen the sun ishere. It was dark insidethe museumthe stone was coolthe red jewelsawake all night and day The air is always wetat the Met, you saidOverly dewy Ornate metalsbreathing them in then teacups, theirexcessively dignifiedfaces—full also of a desirefor dignity—feeling they mightlack it. You wanted to runfrom thing to thing [End Page 52] and later you wanted potatoes Mashed, fried,boiled with butter Potato salad, even Potatoesso many different waysthat we forgot they werepotatoes. Your future smileis inscribed now that you're dead Walking up steps and lookingat things I wanted to protect you—even now I do All dayand all night Guarding the thought of you And then there'sanother one. [End Page 53] Temperatures The hand is the secondface, she said. The sand was thereason. The rocks were thereason. The ocean was thereason. I had this ideathat everymoment lives forever The moon was thereason. The stars werethe reason. Thegalaxy was the reason. It was Sundayinside. It wasblue and transparent It was not capturedbut a wave sound, itreminded me of [End Page 54] The back of that headcovered with hairwas marked with thoughts The sun turned thegrey earth intoa shaking garden. [End Page 55] Leopoldine Core leopoldine core is the author of the poetry collection Veronica Bench and the story collection When Watched, which won a Whiting Award and was a finalist for the PEN/Hemingway Award. Copyright © 2023 Yale University","PeriodicalId":43039,"journal":{"name":"YALE REVIEW","volume":"107 1","pages":"0"},"PeriodicalIF":0.1000,"publicationDate":"2023-09-01","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"","citationCount":"0","resultStr":"{\"title\":\"Bass Notes, and: Temperatures\",\"authors\":\"Leopoldine Core\",\"doi\":\"10.1353/tyr.2023.a908671\",\"DOIUrl\":null,\"url\":null,\"abstract\":\"Bass Notes, and: Temperatures Leopoldine Core (bio) Bass Notes The beautiful, slightlypurposeful way youmoved downMadison Avenue Red-gold hairgrowing out of thedeepest bass notesin the moonlight yousummonedand stood ineven at 11am deeply femalethoughonce you said youwere also a mannamed Rocky. An orange dress flappedaround your slippersas you scuffed upthe thin grey stepsof the Met How intrepid this city can be. [End Page 51] I saw a paisleypatterned moth out onthe ledge big as a hummingbirdbut risking its veil—stillness and feet That's a good omen, you saidto see a nighttime ghostwhen the sun ishere. It was dark insidethe museumthe stone was coolthe red jewelsawake all night and day The air is always wetat the Met, you saidOverly dewy Ornate metalsbreathing them in then teacups, theirexcessively dignifiedfaces—full also of a desirefor dignity—feeling they mightlack it. You wanted to runfrom thing to thing [End Page 52] and later you wanted potatoes Mashed, fried,boiled with butter Potato salad, even Potatoesso many different waysthat we forgot they werepotatoes. Your future smileis inscribed now that you're dead Walking up steps and lookingat things I wanted to protect you—even now I do All dayand all night Guarding the thought of you And then there'sanother one. [End Page 53] Temperatures The hand is the secondface, she said. The sand was thereason. The rocks were thereason. The ocean was thereason. I had this ideathat everymoment lives forever The moon was thereason. The stars werethe reason. Thegalaxy was the reason. It was Sundayinside. It wasblue and transparent It was not capturedbut a wave sound, itreminded me of [End Page 54] The back of that headcovered with hairwas marked with thoughts The sun turned thegrey earth intoa shaking garden. [End Page 55] Leopoldine Core leopoldine core is the author of the poetry collection Veronica Bench and the story collection When Watched, which won a Whiting Award and was a finalist for the PEN/Hemingway Award. 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Bass Notes, and: Temperatures
Bass Notes, and: Temperatures Leopoldine Core (bio) Bass Notes The beautiful, slightlypurposeful way youmoved downMadison Avenue Red-gold hairgrowing out of thedeepest bass notesin the moonlight yousummonedand stood ineven at 11am deeply femalethoughonce you said youwere also a mannamed Rocky. An orange dress flappedaround your slippersas you scuffed upthe thin grey stepsof the Met How intrepid this city can be. [End Page 51] I saw a paisleypatterned moth out onthe ledge big as a hummingbirdbut risking its veil—stillness and feet That's a good omen, you saidto see a nighttime ghostwhen the sun ishere. It was dark insidethe museumthe stone was coolthe red jewelsawake all night and day The air is always wetat the Met, you saidOverly dewy Ornate metalsbreathing them in then teacups, theirexcessively dignifiedfaces—full also of a desirefor dignity—feeling they mightlack it. You wanted to runfrom thing to thing [End Page 52] and later you wanted potatoes Mashed, fried,boiled with butter Potato salad, even Potatoesso many different waysthat we forgot they werepotatoes. Your future smileis inscribed now that you're dead Walking up steps and lookingat things I wanted to protect you—even now I do All dayand all night Guarding the thought of you And then there'sanother one. [End Page 53] Temperatures The hand is the secondface, she said. The sand was thereason. The rocks were thereason. The ocean was thereason. I had this ideathat everymoment lives forever The moon was thereason. The stars werethe reason. Thegalaxy was the reason. It was Sundayinside. It wasblue and transparent It was not capturedbut a wave sound, itreminded me of [End Page 54] The back of that headcovered with hairwas marked with thoughts The sun turned thegrey earth intoa shaking garden. [End Page 55] Leopoldine Core leopoldine core is the author of the poetry collection Veronica Bench and the story collection When Watched, which won a Whiting Award and was a finalist for the PEN/Hemingway Award. Copyright © 2023 Yale University