Raphael d’Abdon

Dr Raphael d’Abdon was born in Udine (Italy) and lives in Pretoria (South Africa). He is a writer, scholar, spoken word poet, editor and translator, and the author of three collections of poems, sunnyside...

Raphael d’Abdon – the grandmother

where the wind begins a grandmother shrugs empires off her back their fall like hail on frosted fields the noise that chased us stops bliss the sound of now we have arrived to this land with no strangers brought by the prayers...

Rae Armantrout – With

It’s well that things should stir inconsequentially around me like this patina of shadow, flicker, whisper, so that I can be still. * I write things down to show others later or to show myself that I am not alone with my experience. * “With” is the word that comes to mind, but it’s...

Feud

The first season of Feud was transmitted between March and April 2017. It has 8 episodes and it is based on the true story of the rivalry between the legendary actresses Joan Crawford and...

Rae Armantrout – And

1 Tense and tenuous grow from the same root as does tender in its several guises: the sour grass flower; the yellow moth. 2 I would not confuse the bogus with the spurious. The bogus is a sore thumb while the spurious pours forth as fish and circuses.

Reading second-language writing

Exophonic writers – those who write in a language other than their primary or so-say native tongue – choose to do so for many different reasons – personal, artistic, social, political, economic. And in...

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...

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Barbara Ungar – Your Mother Serves Tongue

How could you put another creature’s tongue into your mouth? How could you bite, chew, swallow? Cannibal. Obscene. How could you tell the difference between a cow’s tongue and its delicious rump?...

Iliyana Deleva – The wall’s memory

‘Red’s shadow is brown’ – graffiti on the wall of the National Academy of the Arts. It’s not there now. The wall’s been repainted since then, and other graffiti has...

Iliyana Deleva – Home

after every poetry workshop slivers of poetry remain today the theme is home I leave a piece of home in the hospital ward at visiting time Translated by Tom Phillips Original...

Patrick Süskind – Perfume

Paris, 1738: the fish market. Here, in the smelliest place of the smelliest city in the world, was born Jean-Baptiste Grenuille, the perfume genius. From...

Iliyana Deleva – Translator

Reveals the secret stones of the tongue. And of silence. Lays hold of meanings. Translates them into words. Pulls us against the current. Reaches the vortex. Catches fish and releases them. Plock! Translated...