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Articles by Tytti Heikkinen
Arteries & Veins
“In oncoming lights, my veins are dirty strings.” In the oncoming lane, a child is crying in my headlights. I hear the sand under my tires, or the faint rasping of breath. In oncoming lights, my veins are dirty strings. Over time, everything is, with pale fingers kissed by the thread. Tytti Heikkinen is a Finnish author with three poetry books in Finland and a translation collection, The Warmth of the Taxidermied Animal, released in the United States with Action Books in 2013.
Q&A with Niina Pollari and Grzegorz Kwiatkowski
Niina Pollari is the author of the poetry books Path of Totality (Soft Skull) and Dead Horse (Birds, LLC), as well as the translator of Tytti Heikkinen’s English-language collection The Warmth of the Taxidermied Animal (Action Books). Translated from Finnish by Pollari, “Planets in Their Tracks” and Other Poems were published in The Offing.
"notes for a song" and Other Poems
notes for a song if you hear a voice it’s the utility sink singing it’s been a long time since the hearts’ mast laid down to round out the dust storm flowers lives dreams stud the void’s begging bowl uncountable the wounds of the city invited to the scavenger’s ball if you hear a voice it is the mass grave singing landfill-mouth gnawing on a final star the little blue spot over there we still want to call sky the little blue spot over there is hope brave name badging the light that seeps...
A Secret Tale - The Offing
Sister came in late spring, when summer winds blew in from the mountains. Mother said to her, If anything happens to your little brother, it’s on you. Sister gripped Brother’s hand and sat quietly on the bus to the village, her eyes fixed straight ahead. On their ride into the village, she saw the soldiers. She saw the school. She saw small pagodas, mountains, and rivers. An old woman with a fly on her face glared from beneath an elm tree.
"Creatures" and Other Poems
CREATURES I. Nothing more fragile, nothing more simple: time gets lost if I believe we’ll have time to count all the forms of happiness. On the screen I follow pictures of the ocean: it divides us, it’s cold, at every veering of birds your body and mine might be transformed. Tonight the ocean touched your belly because you dreamed it, a strange Europe caressed my back. I press my face, the shape of your face two hemispheres. II. Creatures, traces of fire. On the wall you made the first marks.
"Planets in Their Tracks" and Other Poems
PLANETS IN THEIR TRACKS a breath without another comes back to silence and rooms have room again but when the nightly hues shift to dark plum, treacherously kind, then pain clears away all other feelings and that opening shrinks rain succumbing in warm waves against the window you have to press your face against the glass to see its obvious definition: easily broken planets move along their tracks in wet-looking clumps like stupid girls stupid girls the order of things is too far to be...
I’m a Broiler by Tytti Heikkinen
chickens birth eggs boiled chickens birth boiled eggs i’m a broiler and evidently my skin is always chicken skin i believe everything i cry only saliva i salivate a lot slippery organic sorrow so utterly transparent the ultimate essence of personhood turned inside out in the slaughterhouse i traverse down the killing and stunning track my feet attached to metal hooks toward the water stunning pool in which my head is an egg boiled in the hatred of your eyes head down all dreams drip into my...
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