Thursday 03 September 2015

JM4

Jennifer Moore

Like Lorca, I want to sleep the dream of apples. / I want the old dangers to feel welcome— // the wind displacing the fir tree, the fir tree catching on fire.
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Bursa

Andrzej Bursa

Now I felt rested, strong, young and independent. Whistling, I ran to the bathroom. I would have loved a bath but unfortunately the bathtub was filled with the corpse.
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Photo by Jana Lišaníková

Juraj Bindzar

The Benkóczi women went on sipping their soup in silence. Then when the older of the two had finished eating, she glared at the servant girl, wiped her nose on the tablecloth, swore something in Hungarian under her breath and clambered up heavily from her chair.
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IMG_0117

Olga Zilberbourg

But Pushkin’s birthday in June came and went, and soon enough New Year’s was coming up, and I still hadn’t heard anything. I had to admit I’d fallen for a scam. It was too late to do anything but laugh.
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Daniel Lawless

Daniel Lawless

There’s a suitcase with a little girl’s body inside. / The feeling of having forgotten something at the store / Is mostly what the soul is, right? / The bare patch rubbed raw on a cat’s paw— / For some, that’s the soul, too. / Maybe the killer’s. / His hands are like two famous brothers who hate each other.
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Bursa
Bursa

Andrzej Bursa

Photo by Jana Lišaníková

Juraj Bindzar

IMG_0117

Olga Zilberbourg

Daniel Lawless

Daniel Lawless

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