top of page

Measure for Measure, March 2017

  • Writer: The Blue and White Magazine
    The Blue and White Magazine
  • Mar 26, 2017
  • 1 min read

Updated: Aug 2, 2021

Le Fleuve de Héraclite

By Ned Russin


C’est le mien, c’est le mien, c’est le mien Un fleuve coulera en temps Héraclite était un homme mais n’est pas dans la présent

Où est-ce que je serai quand je m’assieds dans l’eau ? Je vais penser en baignant mais le passé est seul un morceau celui je ne dois pas tenir


J’aimerais savoir ma signification dans le monde J’aimerais aimer les derniers et future ans étendentJe suis Héraclite et je suis le mien Le euve de temps C’est le tien



Egg Bread, Twin Braid

By Joelle Milman


To braid a bread begin by moving upwards, melting lines of yeasted dough of meticulous blending

by moving upwards berating the shape of dough of meticulous blending which rises in leavened breaths

creating the shape by the way this works according to form which rises in layered breaths at first, and

the way this works according to form is the second becomes the first, and third becomes the last

the second becomes braided, tug of the yeast at the third becomes the last while moving upward,

braided, each tug of the yeast finishes the line while moving upward; to braid a bread, begin.

Recent Posts

See All
Ancient Airs, Autumn Nights

What is lost and what is found. By Iris Eisenman In 1915, poet Ezra Pound published Cathay, a slim volume of English translations from Classical Chinese poetry. He did not speak a lick of Chinese. On

 
 
The Flower and the Nausea

By Duda Kovarsky Rotta Carlos Drummond de Andrade is a name every Brazilian child at least vaguely recognizes—most major cities have invariably named a street or a square after him. Some say he was ou

 
 
Perseids

By Ava Lattimore I left in the morning with a stain under my skin. You left in the morning to wash it all off. I sat with my legs straddling your hips. Can you feel it now? You asked me if you were my

 
 
bottom of page