PROWLING MEMORY’S ROOMS: Poems by Helen Wickes
NARRATION He hollered She slapped He chose back of the hand She found the horse whip I visited ...
NARRATION He hollered She slapped He chose back of the hand She found the horse whip I visited ...
The Dreaming Machine
Writing and visual arts from the world.

I place my forehead on the plate glass-front And peered in at the darkness... And there was nothing there ...

Ready Ready to move into a new house, my wardrobe, wrapped in cellophane, looks like a corpse. So ...

Her grandfather would never go back there. He distrusted the place. ‘The people smile all the time,’ he used to ...

Cover art, Pixabay photo by MariaKray. 22 Degree Halo All of a sudden, the cirrostratus clouds were blown away, Like ...

Sciarrino. In your poetry collection ‘La Peligòrga’ (2007) you underline the fact that you feel marked by your Destiny of ...
In this issue of The Dreaming Machine, an interview with the artist focusing on this exhibit, curated by Camilla Boemio,...
Read moreDetails© 2024 thedreamingmachine.com - Privacy policy - Cookie policy