In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:

• After Alice Coltrane’s Journey in Satchidananda, and: Schoolboys Ponder
• Robin Romeo (bio)

The bass—my gospel heartstrings that drummy hollow chest from beginning past end,inexhaustible fluid signature-cadence ofslow-swaying voice balancing positiveand negative. I move toward bliss sure-footed, each step indelible. I am not alone.We walk on walls in a world bereftof its footing. We know whichway up is. We build in earth to touch sky.Bless the skilled steps of our chosen direction.And the gospel heart’s faithful rhythm-melodyblending with precise fingers sequenced like raindroplets that pluck the great harp glazed withmagnetized blood, playing back through us

legacies notated into the voice of it, musicplucked with time signature of a little bird’sheart whistling the gospel heart’s melodysung by chords of the bass finding their timbrein the wafer-enclosed body, air in flow,eddies spinning harmonics, ancestral nuancein iron-rich blood. The foundation of allevocation, all genres born of sound, isplanted here: all entry into trance, safepassage through to what awaits with welcome.And the horn’s buzz—dawn shenhaithrough smoke and new light, a billionprayers rising, a rush of whispers, chants,mental meter, in petition to the fields of

bliss at the border of the universe, shornof all else, vista of which we cannotconceive, the gate of crossing betweenworld of duality and that which isn’tworld, universe of nonmatter withinthe self, heard now in whispers: toms,traps, hand-held bells—sometimes slippedround the ankle to blend with rhythmicdust rising, the stamp and foot-shuffle—chimes’ glissando meeting harp-soundmid-mind, spirit liberated into realmsof beginning, tambura fuzzing,ringing, echoing the gospel heartsoothed along the great bass line. [End Page 336]

Schoolboys Ponder

. . . We are lost, must

Wizard a track through our own screaming weed.

—Gwendolyn Brooks

On worn paths that intersect at school, weTalk transformation: from what we areInto what we aim to become, each lostIn books and due dates, doing what he must.Perhaps each of us becomes wizardAt his chosen field if we stay on track,Able to cross thresholds of doors throughWhich we’re proven worthy of entry by ourDedication, elevated alongside our own,Unbothered by the world’s screaming,Its carpet of pervasive, noxious weed. [End Page 337]

Robin Romeo

Robin Romeo calls Harlem home. He earned a BA from Vermont College, where he studied literature and creative writing. His poems are forthcoming in the Caribbean Writer and Curlew Quarterly. This past winter, Romeo was selected as a Brooklyn Poets Fellow for study in Jay Deshpande’s workshop on the sonnet.

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中文翻译：

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在爱丽丝·柯特伦（Alice Coltrane）在萨奇达南达（Satchidananda）的旅程之后，以及：男生思考

代替摘要，这里是内容的简要摘录：

• 在爱丽丝·科尔特兰（Alice Coltrane）在萨奇达南达（Satchidananda）之旅之后，以及：男生思考
• 罗宾·罗密欧（生物）

低音-我的福音心弦从头到尾一直鼓起我的空心胸部，缓慢摇摆的声音平衡着正负的取之不尽，用之不竭。我坚定地走向幸福，每一步都是不可磨灭的。我并不孤单。我们在一个立足于世界的墙壁上行走。我们知道往哪走。我们在地球上建造以接触天空。祝福我们所选择方向的熟练步骤。福音之心忠实的节奏旋律与精确的手指交融，像雨滴一样排列，将滴落着磁化血的巨大竖琴拉出，通过我们回放

谱写成它的声音遗产，音乐弹拨有一只小鸟的时间签名心脏呼啸福音心脏的旋律在低音弦唱找到自己的音色在晶圆封闭体中的流动，空气涡流纺纱谐波，祖细微差别的富含铁的血液。所有动机的产生，所有类型的声音都植根于此：所有进入迷,、安全通过的通道，都受到欢迎。和号角的嗡嗡声-烟熏和新的曙光中破晓的深海，十亿个祈祷的兴起，耳语，吟诵，精神测验的奔涌，向在田野上的请愿

在宇宙边界的幸福，所有其他事物的剪裁，我们无法想象的远景，二元世界与非世界之间的穿越之门，自我内在的非物质宇宙，如今悄悄地传来：汤姆，陷阱，手持的铃铛-有时在脚踝周围打滑，与有节奏的灰尘上升，踩踏和踩踏声交织在一起-编钟的glissando与中立的竖琴交相辉映，精神解放成开始的境界，tambura模糊，敲响，回声福音的心沿着大贝司线舒缓了。[结束页336]

男生思考

。。。我们迷路了，必须

在我们自己尖叫的杂草中寻找向导。

—格温多琳·布鲁克斯（Gwendolyn Brooks）

在学校相交的陈旧道路上，我们谈论着转变：从我们的本性到我们要成为的目标，每一次迷失在书本和到期日里，尽他所能。也许我们每个人都可以成为巫师，如果我们继续前进，在他所选择的领域，能够越过门槛，奉献精神证明我们值得进入，与我们自己并肩奋战，不受世界的尖叫，无处不在的地毯，有害的杂草。[结束页337]

罗宾·罗密欧

罗宾·罗密欧（Robin Romeo）叫哈林（Harlem）回家。他在佛蒙特大学获得文学学士学位，在那里他学习文学和创意写作。他的诗在“加勒比海作家”和“库里季刊”中即将出版。在过去的冬天，罗密欧被选为布鲁克林诗人院士，在杰伊·德斯潘德（Jay Deshpande）的十四行诗作坊学习。

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