Rooftiles shrink under green moss,
old houses float over
the surface of time;
another dawn wipes the shadows
rising like yeast
off the cobblestones.

An empty street whitens,
and a crowd
of featureless men
wait for the green light
to pass.

So they will wait
(though the street is clear)
till the corporal commands
new crematoria,
bones to moan:
They will wait till Judgment Day.

Short Reviews of Memories of Love
from Publishers Weekly

Ukrainian-born Boychuk, author of six books of poetry, two novels and eight plays, immigrated to the U.S. in 1949 after enduring a Nazi forced-labor camp. And indeed, much of his poetry in this volume, the first to make his work available in English, conveys the testimony of a troubled survivor: "My witnessing was also a betrayal. I'm alive." "Three Dimensional Love," a 16-part sequence of poetry and rhythmic short prose, best harnesses Boychuk's uneasy memories of the persecution of the Jews and of his own hardships; dreaming of eros ("the girl in the light / sunburned and fresh"), the speaker tries to "keep death / at bay" but is undone by the reverberation of "Gestapo bullets." Boychuk's sturdy simplicity, directness and lyricism, well rendered by Ignatow and Rudman, give his voice an unaffected eloquence in writing of love and death, nature, home and the corrosive vitality of American cities.