I am Thetis. Or, I am she who does the dipping: my pen in the ink. Or, I am not myself at the nib, I am Thetis. Or, it is my touch […]
Autofiction
Persian Poetry and the Western Gaze
Ruby lips, perfumed hair, seeds of love, fires of ecstasy – it is not difficult to draw conclusions about what kind of poetry such images may figure in. Love poetry – oral […]
Your Story
Tell me something unbelievable. Tell me about the crashing waves And the time as a child you fell and scraped your shin, Tell me grazed skin and rubies of blood gleaming With […]
the sweet smell of biryani
I carry a taste within me that swims through mash potatoes, undoes what a granma does, rejects grammar. I carry a taste within me of generations-distant genocide, a rogue flight because you […]
Untitled
Is this the verse that unfolds me? Must I listen to its secrets; must I let it watch me? Is this the verse that is overworked, the one that is read and […]
Grigore Gafencu’s Poetry of Memory // Grigore Gafencu si Poezia Memoriei
Romanian poet Grigore Gafencu invites his readers into the abstract imagery of memory and change in the late hours of the evening. Poetul român Grigore Gafencu își îndrumează cititorii prin imaginile abstracte […]
The Poem which does not begin, but is exposed
Mornings are not made for pretence; they are not voyeurs, either, but they are concerned with nakedness, or a state of being bare that tends to embarrass. And, because they […]