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Sarah J. Sloat

Study with Nightcap


Rain made a blur of the buildings and lit windows.



I stopped by the Greeks for a glass of wine.



On the wall a painting of what seemed to be a ball of yarn, asymmetrical.



Perfection quite off the agenda.



The yarn loomed across the room like a far-off planet.



You couldn’t make out a thing that was happening.



I left it to my imagination.



All in all, my career as a voyeur has been remarkable in its poverty.



Found wanting vs. found longing.



The waitress thanked me for my patience.

Train into Winter


October kicks over its own kindling-

twilight early, never fail.



I’ve been clipping fuses,



skirting a larger problem

with when and whether to decide.



We’ll arrive but the sun has a headstart.



I remember when

something as plain as snowfall

would ease me —



clearing lengths of overthinking

I threw out like tracks.



October, you’re the saboteur

of your own beauty. Sun, you’re flying



out ahead of us too fast.

Sloat - Train into Winter
Sarah Sloat.jpg

Sarah J. Sloat divides her time between Frankfurt and Barcelona, where she works in news. Her poems, prose and collage have appeared in The Offing, Beloit Poetry Journal and Diagram, among other journals. A book of Sarah's visual poetry will be published by Sarabande Books in 2020. You can find her at

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