poem by Dmitry Blizniuk
from Ukraine, Kharkov translated from Russian by Sergey Gerasimov A Pair of Opening Scissors Like a scorpion that hears through the night the velvet steps of a caravan far, far away,
e-revista EgoPHobia
from Ukraine, Kharkov translated from Russian by Sergey Gerasimov A Pair of Opening Scissors Like a scorpion that hears through the night the velvet steps of a caravan far, far away,
Arad, Romania At ease on a cracking splintery bench in the Serbian slums, with the Old Theatre on the eastern side
by Isabel Gómez de Diego
Fallen genealogy you have been systematically sucked into the wayward bowel of my headstrong harem an unborn child outside of Wedlock’s Stockade wonders at the shape of an accuser’s fingernail this torture is inhumane and lacks moral justice “I have erred, no doubt. Debase the earth that I had trodden upon because I have […]
Jeder stirbt für sich allein I tell a tale, you tell a lie Doch jeder stirbt für sich allein In the last tale, your soul for sale The truth you stood for no good
The kids of my year So there they are – not in alphabetical order but in three rows by height –
My dreamed hedgehog. The new-Celtic elegy according to Mr. Paweł Markiewicz I lost the cute hedgehog in last summer. I can just only dream overnight – mourn. The amaranthine body lay on grass.
The Day God Disappeared “You can pretend you talk to Him But He ain’t here He’s gone.” You’re here. The day sunny and windless – rare during the winter. Carrion birds stalk lower and lower, suddenly sail up, then
Cat’s Act I spend my time in a tavern named the Lemon Melon, overlooks Sunset Inlet,
Mystery of life and death I went to the kingdom of fundamental particles my body being so coarse I sent my mind in I found they have rhythm of life.