Tanya Paperny


the moon tonight
like a poaching egg
suspended in the froth
of its own whites

thirty years old
and still not fully cooked
waiting for the slotted spoon
the moon dims behind floating clouds

what does it mean
to be broken but still contained?

a hot night for open windows
but sanity comes
in the form
of street noise

the poached egg continues poaching
another lunar rotation
try it all over again
when the haze recedes


Tanya Paperny is a writer, editor, and literary translator living in DC. The child of Soviet Jewish refugees, her poetry and nonfiction deal with the aftermath of atrocity. Her work has appeared in The Atlantic, The Washington Post, Washington City Paper, The Literary Review, Vice, and Pacific Standard.