What no one mentioned was the moment when we disbanded – how we all broke our freeze at the same time – like we had come up for air at once or had woken from the same dream together.
KEEPING BEDLAM AT BAY IN THE PRAGUE CAFÉ (an excerpt) Not long ago, John Shirting--quiet young Chicagoan, wizard of self-medication--held down a beloved...
All right here’s one for you. This one comes from my mother’s cousin who lives up in New England. Don’t ask me why.
"Anton Webern was killed on September 15, 1945 in Mittersill, Austria. For a long time no one knew the exact circumstances of the great composer’s death and the musical world more or less accepted the mystery. Then, musicologist Hans Moldenhauer carried out an investigation that took in the US Army’s own account of events. "
“Get us there, Frank and then cruise around the back roads for a while. I want to get a feel for the country. This guy chases foxes with dogs, you know that, Frank?”
when young the body is a well of pleasure when you are old / it is a sack of pains and you begin to learn the names / of over-the-counter drugs you carry them in your pockets / the pills and creams and ointments and capsules / lidocaine ibuprofen acetaminophen paracetamol /
Lindsey Holland reading her poem "It Comes To Blood," at Napa Bar in Prague, 26 August, 2012.
Annie Brechin reading her poem, "Choices", at Napa Bar & Gallery in Prague, 26 August, 2012.
You showed me the exit, / the one that lets out on the pond / just in time to see the train glowworm / through the overpass to Hůrka. / I can’t say what made it look so alive.