…(forever) followers!?… are we a new race? or to say it more politely a new ethnicity? or just a random mass of individuals (mostly female) living here living there pushing those who belong to us or pulling them behind us waiting for the one we belong to come home from work (work we usually don’t… Elke Papp weiterlesen
Schlagwort: prose
David Miller
Lit-Mag #40 – Expatriations: The expat edition Spiritual Letters (Series 5, #5) Late one night, he began wandering unfamiliar back streets: and continued on and on, travelling enormous distances, even crossing oceans; though he only ever remembered walking. Far distant family and old friends met him on his way. Suddenly, a flock of ducks flew… David Miller weiterlesen
Kent MacCarter
Lit-Mag #40 – Expatriations: The expat edition The Burmese Option In my best dream I have crossed the border and my coins are wrong. Without the tongue I gesture, sweat and wake aboard this boat— Richard Hugo, The Anacortes-Sydney Run Unloading New Zealand served itself for breakfast, although not rudely so. The freight ship I… Kent MacCarter weiterlesen
Vahni Capildeo
Lit-Mag #40 – Expatriations: The expat edition Five Measures of Expatriation I. The Fan Museum This used to be a private house in Scandinavia. It once belonged to a fan collector, who was a great traveller, and was not known to have lived there. There were no signposts to it, although it featured in some… Vahni Capildeo weiterlesen
Tanya Alex Murray
Lit-Mag #37 Myself & Others True Accounts The End Of Love One year ago. Our last breakfast together. We sat at the counter, in the sleek modern kitchen of his sleek modern house. Outside, a flat white sun hammered down, eye-scorchingly bright, and it felt all wrong. It was 9 a.m, thirty degrees in the… Tanya Alex Murray weiterlesen
Kris T Kahn
Travel & Transitioning Bidding Travelling, you realise that differences are lost: each city takes to resembling all cities, places exchange their form, order, distances, a shapeless dust cloud invades the continents… – Italo Calvino Any progression, whether by aeroplane or steam engine, deserves a sense of reflection. Perhaps it is no coincidence that the two… Kris T Kahn weiterlesen
Julia Carpenter
Man, Woman, Knife Softly now, quiet. You don’t want to wake her. She always complained when you woke her, she hated that. Sometimes she would call the police when you made a noise outside her window. But that was only when she was alone. When she had that thug with her she would send him… Julia Carpenter weiterlesen
Dieter Sperl
when the landscape ceases the door is dripping it is damp the tongue is exhausted for seconds only wheezing the tongue hanging out with all these fingers and teeth and ears in a wheezing to dawn like this until the body ripped open on the floor the heart in its beating in a passionate new… Dieter Sperl weiterlesen
Dieter Sperl
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
Thomas White
Love and Pain Sacrifices Of Love „[T]here was no meaning anywhere outside their own hearts“ Graham Greene They were unashamed lovers, Like ancient Aztec priests Ripping out each other’s Hearts: burnt offerings to gods Who lord over riotous feasts, Scavenged by passion-hungry mobs. But jealousy was the still sharper knife That finally brought some peace… Thomas White weiterlesen