Leonard Kress

EXCISION   In my headlights I see a giant rat scud across the road. Under the unflinching illumination of my high beams, it looms, black...
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Leonard Kress

Chekhov, the master who knew how to couch // the most bitter impossibilities—the empty couch, / delayed carriage, guttering candle, Chekhovian / touches, the last few rubles gambled / away as the Gypsy sings and the Pomeranian / snarls.

Pavel Srut – Part 1

Silently, the silent mold / sounds its tenuous / bell. A woman lies down / beside me, her head // a huge washed beetroot.

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