Karel Šebek

EVENING For Karel Šebek I rubberstamped Šebek onto paper like a poemthe kidney lips straightrazor hands massacre of eyesrazor...
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Milan Děžinský

We sit and watch the chickadees in the feeder, / drinking hot tea, a celebration of security / with dusk’s familiar arrival.

A Send-Off for Ferlinghetti by Adam Borzič

He sang / like a gas station on a black summer night.

Stanislav Dvorský

perjury of lightning bolts: / a fish spine rises from the trenches of the wound-up day, / disrupting darkness

Radka Thea Otípková

At night I become his missing arm. / The one he lost on the front, looked for / years later and didn´t find.

Kamil Bouska

So many people in the world. Truly, is no one superfluous?

Petr Hruska

The door always used to swing shut, by itself, for years and years, with measured haste. / Now it stands utterly still.

Petr Borkovec

Petr Borkovec is now a somewhat neglected author, and it is unquestionably true that only a small handful of readers know his work.

Karel Sebek

in the auditorium of several neighboring windows / I see a single moth / as old and miserable as the world

Petr Hruska

They had already sat down on the bed. Then the man remembered the back door was still open.

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