Translated from the Albanian by Ukë Zenel Buçpapaj
Of what was it I was thinking?
So the meaning escapes.
– An excerpt from ‘Metaphors of a Magnifico’ by Wallace Stevens… 370 more words
5 days, 15 hours ago
She is calmer than her songs
She falls asleep watching the twisted veins of trees
She is luckier than night and darkness… 299 more words
6 days, 3 hours ago
It is the Child that numbs even the Sun with his or her eyes.
The pencil moves slowly on the paper, drawing birds instead of leaves. 286 more words
1 week ago
To emigrate from yourself in a season of oblivion is to become less worth than a dry leaf. 298 more words
I do plan to gradually reprint some of the content from my previous blog, especially the more popular entries, but it will take a bit for the dust to settle here. 357 more words
1 week, 3 days ago
Tobin Whitaker took just one day off each year, and even then it could hardly be considered a holiday. Every New Year’s Day, Tobin set up a stand in front of his house on Culligan Lane in the town of Ducks Landing, Idaho. 5,850 more words
I have given a name to my pain
And call it Dog.
I can tell it to sit, lay down,
Roll over, play dead.
I scold it and shame it… 599 more words
1 week, 4 days ago