The girl who won't come home from work.By the tape measure & the pen holder – redlike the apple the witch offeredto Snow White, red like Eve's.Between the apple & the wor
Fifty square yards of floor & we danced to bass drum & trumpet rhythms & the women were unstoppable we were rough & ready with all the latest hits speaking words fu
I heard you’re adding up my years in work for my old-age pension: 1 year a labourer for a drainage company, 2 years a soldier with former convicts, 3 years an accountant in the f
I’ve no visible wounds. My dilemmas are nestled well beyond the flesh. Yet those who would define me point their finger at the body as the sole possible dimension. As if the faul
I love you word sign, sound of our human self placed inside a throat that so very slowly was formed for you to speak a thing exactly to speak water, bread, grass, earth – all of
Fleshing. Contact no. N ever imagined never I’d never the nose would one day offend the eye, the eye paralyze its own tics in the void never imagined I’d never those teeth coul
Yesterday, my Kosovar workmate asked me could I lend him fifty euros – looking down at his feet working up the courage to say those words mulled over who knows how long – he kn
The time has come to settle the score to the wild rhythm of the dead years Certain fabulous dreams insist on sounding wrong Life takes their rusty old ways for a ride in the gaspin
As soon as I started leafing through and reading Stigmata, the poetry collection by Gëzim Hajdari, who has been living in exile in Italy since 1992, I was intrigued. What is it ab
What a difference a year makes. On the 16th of February 2015 I wrote to the Emerging Translators Network: “Today is a very special day for me: I have started to work on the
