e-revista EgoPHobia - ISSN 1584-6210
by Mircea Pricăjan translated by Adrian Bucur [MTTLC] click pentru versiunea română He couldn’t have said that he had a good memory of when he had entered a church for the first time and, after all, it didn’t matter, for he had certainly been taken there in his youth, by his mother, perhaps during Easter, […]
I Dream in Breathless night. My body smothered in darkness, radiates a solid that should not be. I struggle against invisible ropes more stagnant than my skin, inhale the smoke generated by imaginary friction. Sadly, I know there is no hope of bursting into salvatory flames. A Fly Buzzed […]
Delirium tremens All that is useless All that is banned All that gets thrown away All found in the Delirium minds of the deranged. All Raw Unprocessed
Song as Axiomatic Password Driving in rain, radio on, Moby’s Mistake, the slow start redolent of regret then the beat insistent as grief swoops, leaves me depleted. I could have died a dozen deaths but lived. Wrenched apart by a song. A song? Edge of night I heard the iron cries of trams […]
Dusk Front I saw lines of shadow cross my backyard and seep through the dry soil. With erasure inbound, no more will we lament the loss of a friend. The day ends with the drought of wordy creases, so much that I cannot feel myself think about what had happened.
Olympiastadion My throat was sore in Berlin Als das Kind Kind war so I missed the Reichstag fire but on television saw the Wall come down
by Oliviu Crâznic Algid the air, on crystal clear horizons, Beyond the eyes of angels I have drowned; Yet, funny, it’s still snowing in my ocean – Watering flakes and one black tear adown.
Love as it always was He hears my words in a dream. Distantly. Free of rigid lines, unraveled from ill-defined knots.
Hotel Dum What’s sacred when the Thing is all the universe? –Allen Ginsberg (“The Reply”) I rode a tram on my own from the Hotel Dum into Old Town Walked from Karol Bridge to hear Dvořák played in a church where
by Mitchell Grabois 1. Painted white with blue stripes, Stars of David on its sides, the bus left Tel Aviv. I was already asleep, my serotonin-deprived brain anaesthetized with hashish and codeine. Time/miles passed. The bus hit a pothole large enough to shelter a terrorist on the lam, and my lolling head hit the […]