​​H E R M E N E U T I C   C H A O S   J O U R N A L

​c.c russell

Certain Functions Of Translation

​We shout out at night, our eyes
portrayed in the clean light of the television screen.

In any language that is left,
we speak in this way -
a pale imitation of the past.

The same course in any one language.

Only in this manner;
repeated nostalgia.  
Nothing else.
Nothing still.

Just this music,
this wanting.

A Translation Gone To Extremes

A woman’s voice dubs our lines artistically.

She asks

Is it obstruction that is broadcasting
where the person has become purposefully distant first?

An incident report
regarding the accident
Features one hundred dancers.

(At dusk, or that is interpretation
rather than the case.)

It is over now, but for the paperwork.

Over but for the hundred 
fallen dancers
to their feet,

rising slowly 
back to first

C.C. Russell currently lives in Wyoming with his wife, daughter, and two cats. His poetry and fiction have appeared in Rattle, Pearl, The Meadow, and Whiskey Island among others. He has held jobs in a wide range of vocations – everything from graveyard shift convenience store clerk to retail management with stops along the way as dive bar dj and swimming pool maintenance. His short fiction has been nominated for a Pushcart Prize and for inclusion in The Best Small Fictions.