Dawn fades in when I least expect it. Where are the books that held me once, my brave invective, the pictures forming in the darkroom? Memory leaves with her usual lack of meaning, a darkness with … Continued
Written in Polish by Jerzy Ficowski. Translated by Jennifer Grotz and Piotr Sommer. where the green snake at the bottom of a dark cellar under the mossy cover of rumbling and wood rolled around itself and unrolled … Continued
Written in Japanese by Hiromi Itō. The first time I ever heard about coyotes Was in a book called (in Japanese) Setons’ Animals for Boys and Girls There I encountered Lobo the Wolf King, bighorn sheep, a … Continued
You remind me of the Underground Railroad. I’ve learned to watch for the kerosene lamp aglare in your distance. Past the fuel and wick at the far end of your forest, there’s a mud basement, a soot-slick coal cellar with … Continued
We thank you for your interest, an urge from within, a special something. A sea of metaphysical books before they amounted to clairvoyance. An ether inside a higher ether. Two sensitivities to one whole and a dimension of your dormant … Continued
I wandered like a white girl. Oversized backpack, a money belt full of sports bar tips, and a penchant for men with guitars. A fissure in my heart and bad taste in my mouth. I couldn’t afford Europe so I … Continued
Everyone was so into Angel. He drove this car with purple undercarriage lights and fuzzy dice hanging from the rearview mirror. His girl Francine was with him sometimes, her arm hanging out the car window like she owned his … Continued