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The Czech Issue

  Editor’s Note   Throughout the month of November B O D Y will be publishing poetry and prose by writers from the Czech Republic.   This issue, featuring recent Czech writing, would not have been possible without literary translators. […]

UK & Irish Poetry Issue

Throughout the month of October B O D Y will be publishing poetry by poets from across the United Kingdom & Ireland. If you think poems written by poets from across the Atlantic all have rhymes lined up like ducks […]

Willie Davis

  THE EGAN RABBIT   Meander Casey leaned against the side of The Egan Rabbit, a downtown warehouse converted into a space for small shows and hard liquor. He handed out flyers for his brother’s band. “Only give them to […]

Julia Lisella

  A LESSON FROM MY FATHER ABOUT MANURE   He said it had a sweet smell back on the farm different from what was left in the streets of the City when he was a boy between fruit carts and […]

Agnesa Kalinova

  MY SEVEN LIVES   (an excerpt) Agneša Kalinová in conversation with Jana Juráňová By 1939 the Slovak Republic had started to introduce repressive policies. What was its impact on your and your family’s everyday life? The Slovak parliament in […]

Karen Greenbaum-Maya

  BEING ALIVE   What is it like to be Kafka now, the way he lives today in the half-light of European history before the Holocaust? The Jungians say that Kafka wrote his society’s collective dream, pre-cognitively. Isn’t that awful? […]

Pavel Vilikovsky

  FLEETING SNOW   (an excerpt)   Fleeting Snow A novel by Pavel Vilikovský Translated from the Slovak by Julia and Peter Sherwood Published by Istros Books         5.a Here’s the thing: it all started when I […]

Max Sessner

  SHADOWS   Now the shadows wander into the house they are like grandmothers who look back one more time before they leave us in passing they arrange the flowers in the vases ascend the stairs and are shadows again […]

Tyler Goldman

  THEN AGAIN   The smell of rain. Or, then again, the smell of an azalea. Or the sea. Of salt and flame and anise, sesame. The smell of mint, of caraway, the faint sweetness of wet leaves in fall. […]

John McCullough

  XANTHIC   Some months all my thoughts are one colour. I hit a yellow mood and the world pours out its yolks: tall stacks of National Geographics in Oxfam, cranes that point uncertain fingers at the sky and maple […]

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