Milan Děžinský

NOVEMBER Such a picture of witheringdemands active engagement.Chrysanthemums bloom into the snowlike the color of a wounded animal.A free...
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The Spring Issue | Editorial

Welcome to B O D Y's 2021 Spring Issue. Check back daily throughout the month of May for exciting and fresh new poems, stories, essays and interviews.

Vítězslav Nezval

I greet your gliding flight O wings of death / But there are other signs too

Stanislav Dvorský

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

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.

Justin Quinn: Bohuslav Reynek’s Journeys

By remembering how many foreign debts anglophone poetry has accrued over the centuries of its existence ... we are reminded that a poet like Reynek, who seems to emerge from a faraway country of which we know little, is part of the same tradition ... This is lyric poetry of a type in which the poet uses certain patterns of rhyme and pacing that many previous generations have. It is a way of finding likenesses in both words and the world, or sometimes impressing phonic likenesses on disparate experiences, and savoring the phases of that difference.

Olga Stehlikova

It could’ve easily been a scrotum, / but most likely it was someone’s wallet.

Radka Thea Otípková

You must be hungry, he said. / A magnificent sentence like that, / the last I remember him saying.

Vitezslav Nezval

On the beds/ Of a lantern-lit hospital/ A doctor/ Playing the flute/ Revives/ Dead tubercular women

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