Anne and Margot hidden so long under the stars, covered with little more than a voice, filled the lines with…
Poetry Travels
I toss away the diary. While, in the street, leaves fly like pages. By Jaume Subirana Translated by Christopher Whyte…
my skin is white on account of a sun allergy and because I spend my days with the curtains drawn…
I d(r)ipped my pen in your pain and we(‘) d(rew/rue) endlessly weird runes tog(e/a)ther By Mario Martín Gijón Translated by…
what comes snakes worms frogs mire-filled stuttering of a lipless mouth rising slowly to whisper from the depths albatross seagulls…
TRANSLATION From the street through the window I see my mum standing at the sink in a burning house. I’ve…