poems
by Anthony J. Langford Human spiking The troublesome one Begins in soil And ends in flight The damage is done in the bedroom
e-revista EgoPHobia - ISSN 1584-6210
by Anthony J. Langford Human spiking The troublesome one Begins in soil And ends in flight The damage is done in the bedroom
by Oliviu Crâznic The eventide descending, I get your invitation And leave behind my manor, preparing for your games; I’m passing through the gate, of gold and hawthorn flowers – A few attend the party, but we are heavy names.
by Ali Znaidi The Mona Lisa Megrims A river of secret light used to stream across her enigmatic lips. No wind was able to expose her untamed smile, nor the years— a smile beyond description/ a smile that encrypted but never revealed.
by Mitchell Grabois Blood 1. Her mother raised her Catholic but somewhere along the way between inspecting U.S. Navy aircraft (her softness inside their hardness) and teaching Montessori students (her hardness inside their softness) Latilda joined a cult
by A.J. Huffman With Apple I become Eve to your Adam, though you have no discernable signs of having recently lost a rib. I bite anyway, pierce red skin with foreshadowing teeth. I hold
by Patrick Călinescu His domed chest was rising to the rhythm of his irregular breathing (which had actually succeeded in making the altitude at which the act of breathing had put his chest relative to what was generally understood by elevation)—his hands, holding the book on the indefinite surface of the bumpy […]
by Patrick Călinescu A spot of light showed in the sky pressing against what mere instants ago had barely been the faint contour of a feeble cloud. Through the luminous entrance to the eternally atmospherically observant world tossing beneath it, a shaft, seemingly of nothing, began its descent from the invisible regions of […]
by Patrick Călinescu Friend: … all I’m saying is… Bill Bao: … “all” you’re saying?! Friend: Yes!
by Bogdan Mureşanu translation from Romanian by Alexandra Sârbu [MTTLC] The mistress is lying idly on the divan while grabbing lazily a lemonade carafe. Just then a bead happens to glide from her red lips towards her empty chest, and then there down towards the breasts’ parting. My eyes go blear and my mind […]
presented by Raluca Tanasescu click aici pentru versiunea română MICHAEL HELLER (b. 1937) is an American objectivist poet, of Jewish and Romanian origins, who has published over twenty volumes of poetry, essays and memoirs. His newest book is This Constellation Is A Name: Collected Poems 1965-2010. Other recent works include: Eschaton (2009), a book […]