Author Archives: istsfor manity

thigh of translation fearful old fronts and the vainseersuckers of the path Thee Thigh of Translationcalls upon you to wander and crawl through hoods and butterflies —prophecy and foreboding reveal themselves as fata morgana shimmeringon the arid horizon line canted … Continue reading →

singed  my memories are singed at the edgeslike fragments of photographs that survived the fire my father’s hand a ghostly apparition at one cornermy mother’s bouffant floats headless in a curlicue the photosensitive surfaces peeling from their backingthe delaminations delimiting … Continue reading →

tangle shallow accidents folly — you evoke that old eggshell expressionismimaginary warpainton the first indream ashtray — phlegmy black and carbuncular there follows a montage of young sombrerosand the play of wasteland hellscape japeswe live hostage — unmoored — upon … Continue reading →

Condone / Condemn (i dag är det tisdag) I have no idea what she says, or what tongue she speaks. She doesn’t speak English or Spanish, and that’s all I can muster. I haven’t the slightest idea of what she … Continue reading →

Memorable Stuff I Read This Week It is a time of being sorted by skin and hair, by mother tongue,as being from here or there, as pepper spray fills in the airuntil the whole city stinks of it, and the … Continue reading →

What I’m Reading: You fall in love with somebody when you’re twenty-six, and you see them in all kinds of different lights and according to their potential, but after years and years of marriage and shared parenting and all the … Continue reading →

bound and gagged Swallow simple propaganda pills to assuage your inner worry warts and swagger the nation — bound and gagged. I felt the blister in your bluster — a boil lanced and gushed. I heard the snivel in your … Continue reading →

Same as it ever was… How goes it here? This is a life on this side of the globe — existence in a parallel hemisphere.  Here the auroras don’t shimmer so brightly — we don’t see them at all.  Here … Continue reading →

the merits overheard in the uzbek restaurant… wayward talk of chile and ecuador, the prime stops on the silk road, techniques of the boustrophedon, raging poppy fields + too much hash… the one-upmanship: sharp… how we’ve lived through seven of … Continue reading →

What I’m Reading: Bikeless days are a bummer. They do happen. Rain drowns the city, or snow dumps down. You have appointments to keep, and you have to show up looking more presentable than you would after an eighty-block bike … Continue reading →