A Face From Widely Circulated American Magazines
as we walk through a forest tunnel above us hangs the unmoving December sky the stars squint through the braided treetops at seven o’clock in the evening cold needles on the ends of a hornbeam’s […]
Articles
I Am Not a Person From Sarajevo
in Sarajevo April is truly the cruelest month where fantasy and horror mix in the test tubes of the bodies ghosts hang in the air, ghosts of literary schizophrenia you only have to pick them, […]
Salvation
I live on the other side of all things I am not of isms, nor did I come out of anybody’s uniform I hate most the literary evenings and festivals There I feel all the […]
The Una
that is my river in her I have recognized myself there where the reeds are the braids of travertine nymphs who in August, when the water level lowers, show their thighs on which walk incandescent […]