Machine generated contents note: Preface -- Oksana Maksymchuk and Max Rosochinsky -- Introduction: "Barometers" -- Ilya Kaminsky -- ANASTASIA AFANASIEVA -- she says we don't have the right kind of basement in our building -- You whose inner void -- from Cold -- She Speaks -- On TV the news showed -- from The Plain Sense of Things -- Untitled -- Can there be poetry after -- VASYL HOLOBORODKO -- No Return -- I Fly Away in the Shape of a Dandelion Seed -- The Dragon Hillforts -- I Pick up my Footprints -- BORYS HUMENYUK -- Our platoon commander is a strange fellow -- These seagulls over the battlefield -- When HAIL rocket launchers are firing -- Not a poem in forty days -- An old mulberry tree near Mariupol -- When you clean your weapon -- A Testament -- YURI IZDRYK -- Darkness Invisible -- Make Love -- ALEKSANDR KABANOV -- This is a post on Facebook, and this, a block post in the East -- How I love -- out of harm's way -- A Former Dictator -- He came first wearing a t-shirt inscribed "Je suis Christ" -- In the garden of Gethsemane on the Dnieper river -- A Russian tourist is on vacation -- Fear is a form of the good -- Once upon a time, a Jew says to his prisoner, his Hellenic foe -- KATERYNA KALYTKO -- They won't compose any songs, because the children of their children -- April 6 -- This loneliness could have a name, an Esther or a Miriam -- Home is still possible there, where they hang laundry out to dry -- He Writes -- Can great things happen to ordinary people? -- LYUDMYLA KHERSONSKA -- Did you know that if you hide under a blanket and pull it over your head -- How to describe a human other than he's alone -- The whole soldier doesn't suffer -- A country in the shape of a puddle, on the map -- Buried in a human neck, a bullet looks like a eye, sewn in -- that's it: you yourself choose how you live -- I planted a camellia in the yard -- One night, a humanitarian convoy arrived in her dream -- When a country of -- overall -- nice people -- Leave me alone, I'm crying. I'm crying, let me be -- the enemy never ends -- every seventh child of ten -- he's a shame -- you really don't remember Grandpa -- but let's say you do -- BORIS KHERSONSKY -- explosions are the new normal, you grow used to them -- all for the battlefront which doesn't really exist -- people carry explosives around the city -- way too long the artillery and the tanks stayed silent in their hangars -- when wars are over we just collapse -- modern warfare is too large for the streets -- my brother brought war to our crippled home -- Bessarabia, Galicia, 1913-1939 Pronouncements -- MARIANNA KIYANOVSKA -- I believed before -- in a tent like in a nest -- we swallowed an air like earth -- I wake up, sigh, and head off to war -- The eye, a bulb that maps its own bed -- Their tissue is coarse, like veins in a petal -- Things swell closed. It's delicious to feel how fully -- Naked agony begets a poison of poisons -- HALYNA KRUK -- A Woman Named Hope -- like a blood clot, something catches him in the rye -- someone stands between you and death -- like a bullet, the Lord saves those who save themselves -- OKSANA LUTSYSHYNA -- eastern europe is a pit of death and decaying plums -- don't touch live flesh -- he asks -- don't help me -- I Dream of Explosions -- VASYL MAKHNO -- February Elegy -- War Generation -- On War -- On Apollinaire -- MARJANA SAVKA -- We wrote poems -- Forgive me, darling, I'm not a fighter -- january pulled him apart -- OSTAP SLYVYNSKY -- Lovers on a Bicycle -- Lieutenant -- Alina -- 1918 -- Kicking the Ball in the Dark -- Story (2) -- Latifa -- A Scene from 2014 -- Orpheus -- LYUBA YAKIMCHUK -- Died of Old Age -- How I Killed -- Caterpillar -- Decomposition -- He Says Everything Will Be Fine -- Eyebrows -- Funeral Services -- Crow, Wheels -- Knife -- SERHIY ZHADAN -- from Stones -- "We speak of the cities we lived in." -- "Now we remember: janitors and the night-sellers of bread." -- from Why I'm not on Social Media -- Needle -- Headphones -- Sect -- Rhinoceros -- They buried him last winter -- Three Years Now We've Been Talking about the War -- "A guy I know volunteered." -- "Three years now we've been talking about the war." -- "So that's what their family is like now." -- "Sun, terrace, lots of green." -- "The street. A woman zigzags the street." -- "Village street - gas line's broken." -- "At least now, my friend says." -- Thirty-Two Days Without Alcohol -- Take Only What Is Most Important -- A city where she ended up hiding -- Afterword: "On Decomposition and Rotten Plums: Language of War in Contemporary Ukrainian Poetry" -- Polina Barskova -- Authors -- Translators -- Glossary -- Geographical Locations and Places of Significance -- Notes to Poems -- Acknowledgements -- Acknowledgement of Prior Publications.