Life gives birth to life contradicting life itself. Someone’s hair turned gray during the night, he gazes toward the snow-capped mountains – the crown of time. By sheer luck, he came across the boiling point between black and white. Poetry carriage has been seized by a giant beast. Probably […]
My dead people are leaving, but are they leaving with dignity? At chilly mid-day plain trained hands always listen to the sound of their zither. Can you achieve a full concentration by early morning practice? In the morning it seems as if you stopped to look back on your […]
A night when the sea fills beds A night when wine fills the sea A night when words fill wine A night when the world fills words A night when your body fills the world Not you But my own flesh I kissed. Oh, you crushed dream, you flew […]
Paula Abramo’s collection Fiat Lux won the 2013 Premio de Poesías Joaquín Xirau Icaza for the best book of poetry by a writer under forty. She co-authored Yo soy la otra: las mujeres y la cultura en México (2017) and the art installation Ropa Sucia (2017), both exploring the […]
Those who live on this side of the route know about compensation: every time someone goes by headed toward the South they write down the exact time and let a stone fall into the void of being. Those who live on the other side know polarity: every time someone […]
the match shows the distances between things reveals oppositions symmetries when everything was dark and then everything goes dark again but in all those tiny flashing gleams how many revelations fit a wire, scorched and discarded, in a corner a red dress amid a jumble of cups plates on […]
I want to be able to sing with impunity without having to be grateful for being alive or problematize why one feels fear of being horny, bored, convivial where are my friends, my people dead of a thousand & thanatos reasons or almost alive while thus face to face with […]
I find people already buried alive, in Zhaotong, Yunnan. I find cul-de-sac and some untrodden paths. Mirroring the fares of ghosts and shamans. I find Muslims with fear in their eyes. I find the darkness of black coal and deep black coal excavations in the ever-growing shadow of the […]
while I listen to Cohen, that is Leonard the night is fresh between sultry days I watch the cloud that passes by and Gillard does a shuffle in the lower earphone it’s apt now to cite Kierkegaard to pretend I already read a lot of tomes to steal, perhaps to […]
We left the microphone going all night in an abandoned forest. The next day we played back the recording but couldn’t hear anything but a whoosh. It was like the metallic wind of a sterile planet. We played it back faster. Then low noises began to emerge like […]