Poetry, chapbook, 24 pages, from Bottlecap Features.
Sometimes, snow happens to be snowing repeatedly and self-affirmingly, generously distributing its own essence. Sometimes it sticks for a long time.
There is a story by Charles Perrault, Le Petit Poucet, where a little boy drops small white pebbles on his tracks so he can find his way home from Chicago to France. But what if it started snowing in the story?
snow of snow is about leaving messages in the snow, either to yourself or whoever you choose to spend the long winters with. Or perhaps they’re messages made of snow: read them before they melt, then move on to your next spring.
Leon Pradeau was born in France and has lived in Paris before moving to Chicago. He writes poems, and translates other poems, to and from his two languages. He is the editor in chief of Transat’, a journal of bilingual poetry and poetics; he also co-created a chapbook series called Sardines & Marmalade. His work has been published in French and American journals (Mouche, FENCE, Asymptote, sitaudis.fr, The Atlantic...). His first collection of poems, Vaisseau Instantané/Instant Shipping, is forthcoming in 2024 (Paris: Les Murmurations).