Letters from Vienna Whenever I had set about it as a sixteen-year-old, when as a twenty-year-old, now as a thirty-two-year-old, so when I was a seventeen-year-old, when as a seventeen-year-old I had got to know someone, a woman, a child, a man, a warm expanse, or moments of a taut movement, absently lying in the… Dieter Sperl weiterlesen
Schlagwort: english
Gerald Ganglbauer
Multicultural Publishing – How hard is it to do in Australia? Mabel Lee (Wild Peony) chaired a panel of publishers at the Carnivale Literary Festival, New South Wales Writers’ Centre, Rozelle. Invited were Raghid Nahhas (Kalimat), Ivor Indyk (HEAT), Veronica Sumegi (Brandl & Schlesinger), and myself. Here is my short answer: it’s bloody pointless, mate.… Gerald Ganglbauer weiterlesen
Christina Conrad
Poems for Stoneking For Stoneking in siena august 1997 you call out of a hot siena afternoon into a dark New Zealand night you say you cannot walk at night for vipers hiss at every turn how? i ask you can one recognise a viper does viper coil in memory does viper coil at base… Christina Conrad weiterlesen
Bernhard Kainerstorfer
Yellow Rose Bloom (for CJ) There was the solar eclipse shining down on them at the very end of a millennium. And he held her in his arms. Feeling so good, breathing through his heart like living in an aquarium, breathing, before the time has come to oxygenize through gills. Who was cosmically struck and… Bernhard Kainerstorfer weiterlesen
Ines Windheuser
Life on Stage She embraced him with all her might, trying to hold together what had usually been falling apart, so loosely put together by whomsoever. Only after a few long seconds took she notice of the rigidity that was seemingly suddenly driving the body, somewhere. Where? She did not know, but for sure it… Ines Windheuser weiterlesen
Martina Pfeiler
My First Poems To My Lyrical I And here I tell you, oh lyrical I, that you need to sharpen your poetic eye: Watch out for the inexplicable cold and hot streams in us, in you. Discover the hidden depths of the unconscious in us, in you. Monitor the melodramatic self-pity on a misty evening… Martina Pfeiler weiterlesen
Billy Marshall-Stoneking
Ventriloquist and Other Poems Ventriloquist I remember that summer when she’d pull out Charlie – which was what she affectionately called my prick – & being an artist, she’d draw a face on it. Then, without moving her lips, she’d go to work: „Hello, how’re you? My name’s Charlie.“ The first time, I laughed. It… Billy Marshall-Stoneking weiterlesen
Titus Müller
The Stallion Jeoffrey McSadough was riding his mare through a shadowy wood. The eyes, with which he studied every detail of the trees next to the small path, were the eyes of an owner reviewing his property. Although it was three years ago that the black outlined letter had reached him and made him the… Titus Müller weiterlesen
Walter Hoelbling
Nightpoems nightlife ride the night on fiery wings beyond the moon to the one you love lie open-eyed clothed only in your nervous skin feel the whisperings of the forest under a star-speckled summer sky hear deer rustle through dry leaves on ingrained paths breathe in the night air in deep drunken draughts let your… Walter Hoelbling weiterlesen
Ian Kennedy Williams
Life is Sweet Four blocks from the Lever house, Neil Purly was sitting at a long kitchen table, eating cereal. He was reading an article on the front page of the Kentucky Post under the headline Tuck River amongst top five most polluted rivers in state. The cistern flushed in the bathroom at the end… Ian Kennedy Williams weiterlesen