A star – sweetest beauty. Denied faith or body, it doesn’t know touch, doesn’t know patience. Born of luminous solitude, its numb sex impregnates nocturnal women in their madness, rips away their silence and rust, moistens their nipples with the wings of its tongue, fractures their insomnia, discolors their bellies, […]
Ah how morbid you move cougar contending to cross the garden cage where you have locked yourself in between cold mirrors to keep from leaving, […]
Miguel Ángel Muñoz Sanjuán (1961, Spain, Madrid) is a poet and essayist. He has been a very active figure in the Spanish literary scene since the 1980s. He has published six books of poems: Una extraña tormenta (1992), Las fronteras (2001), Cartas consulares (2007), Los dialectos del éxodo (2007), Cantos & Ucronías, and […]
I grew up in a house made of wood and glass. “Nothing to see outside. The house should look inward,” said the architect, and in the center he built a garden. In that house there lived a Physicist, a Mathematician, a Biologist, and a Chemist. These are the roles […]
Juan Carlos Mestre (1957, Villafranca del Bierzo, Spain) is a poet, essayist, and graphic artist. He has published twenty-seven books of poems. Five of his collections have won major Spanish prizes: Antífona del otoño en el Valle del Bierzo, the 1985 Premio Adonáis; La poesía ha caído en desgracia, the […]
I served quite some time as an inmate in a coastal prison surrounded by ramparts. The sound of the waves breaking against the thick walls would echo through the cells and evoke distant voyages. Seabirds, their feathers dripping with water, would rise from behind the walls, blink in puzzlement at […]
Bitter cold, the twilight of the year Clutching my coat, I seek out the sun on the porch In the south garden, nothing green is growing In the north woods, branches bare and dry Tilt the bottle, not one drop remains Look in the kitchen, not one wisp […]
Early summer, grass and trees are growing Around my house in carefree disarray Flocks of birds delight in shelter here Like them, I’m glad to have someplace to stay. My humble lane is far from the highway’s ruts But old friends’ carriages still find the way Planting and […]
a blow of sunrise in flowers leaves me intoxicated from lilac light and nothing drunk from paralysis and certainty -Alejandra Pizarnik Intoxicated, no, not from light, no. Drunk and singing psalms, no. The blackest birds of my mouth and the knives, no, from […]
In the last twenty years I have lived in more than one hundred different hotels (Algolquín, Hamilton, Humboldt, Los Linajes, Grand Palace, Victor Alberto, Reina Sofía, City Park) in distant cities (Quebec and Berlin, Madrid and Montreal, Córdoba and Valparaíso, Paris and Barcelona, Washington and Montevideo) always in […]