” In the waters of our language he owns his own sea”, Four Prose Poems by Gerald Fleming
Fisherman “I’m an amateur,” he said. “I write, rewrite, then night comes ’round, I stand, turn on the light, ...
Fisherman “I’m an amateur,” he said. “I write, rewrite, then night comes ’round, I stand, turn on the light, ...
The Weeping Man, Paris Tuesday afternoon she’d passed a man lying face down on the sidewalk in front ...
The Dreaming Machine
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The title of this piece recalls David Theo Goldberg’s article “Racial Europeanization”, where “racial evaporations” could be extended beyond the ...
Republished from New Nordic Voices, courtesy of the author We love you, Europe, you old continent. I don’t know why they ...
Verdigris shadows ran through the radial-patterned boulevards in a HDR OLED display. The illuminated metropolis, being anything but ...
The fires two hundred miles away, the whole region engulfed in smoke. More than a ...
THE NIGHT OF GOGH Many years, after many many years... When, on canvas, myriad colours and water had breathed impressions ...
HAIR IN THE WIND we invite all poets from all countries to be part of the artistic-poetic performance HAIR IN...
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