Arundhathi Subramaniam – Mitti

As a child I ate mud. It tasted of grit and peat and wild churning and something I could never find a name for. Later I became a moongazer always squinting through windows, believing...

Arundhathi Subramaniam

Described as 'one of the finest poets writing in India today’ Arundhathi Subramaniam was born in Bombay (Mumbai) in 1967. She is the author of twelve books, including five volumes of poetry. Widely translated...

Ellen Bass – Mammogram Callback with Ultrasound

So this is what I’m here for, to see inside the mute weight of my right breast, heavy handful of treasure I longed for as a girl, crying behind the curtain in the Guerlain sisters’ corset...

Ellen Bass – Black Coffee

I didn’t know that when my mother died, her grave would be dug in my body. And when I weaken, she is here, dressing behind the closet door, hooking up her long-line cotton bra, then...

Ellen Bass – The Small Country

Unique, I think, is the Scottish tartle, that hesitation when introducing someone whose name you’ve forgotten and what could capture cafuné, the Brazilian Portuguese way to say running your fingers, tenderly, through someone’s hair? Is there...

Ellen Bass – Indigo

As I’m walking on West Cliff Drive, a man runs toward me pushing one of those jogging strollers with shock absorbers so the baby can keep sleeping, which this baby is. I can just...

Ellen Bass: the best of oneself must shine like stellar dust

I have not yet read the complete work of Ellen Bass but I find her one of the most interesting contemporary authors for the writing process very engaged in themes that are not easily...

Barbara Ungar – PRIVILEGE (or, WHY WE CALL THE LAKE BDE MAKA SKA)

I am swimming on this hot May day on a deserted beach in my white skin I learned to swim in Minneapolis lakes, one named after a slave-owner, Calhoun Every time I put my face in I...

Tom Phillips – Poetry is the new rock’n’roll

None of us really wants it, do we? Poetry is the new rock’n’roll – the fame, the fortune, the snowdrifts of cocaine? The megastores stuffed with slim volumes, the stadia packed with hysterical fans. Seamus Heaney struts through his...

Tom Phillips

Tom Phillips was born in Buckinghamshire in 1964. He is a freelance writer and guest lecturer at various British and Balkan universities. He has lived in Bristol, UK, since 1986, but since the 2000s...

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Pina Piccolo – The Poet’s Adventure

The poet had everything ready: a light briefcase, a ticket, an address. Now, while he was sitting on a bench waiting for the train,...

Ugly, Dirty and Bad

Down and dirty is too important to simply be defined  by a movie genre. A grotesque comedy, perhaps, but sometimes also a drama and...

Elizabeth Jane Howard – The Cazalet Chronicles

As written by Hilary Mantel, Elizabeth Jane Howard is a craftswoman, because in order to build such a monumental work, where nothing is uncalculated,...

Richard Wright – Native Son

Bigger Thomas grew up in the black ghetto of Chicago where, even though he has good examples, he lives day to day on the...

Nenad Joldeski – You

you have pulled every hair from your body and planted them in dry earth you tell yourself that one day maybe something will sprout that it will...