Answering Machine
A flashing light will mean I’m not alone. A moment later maybe I’ll hear your voice, or that of a [...]
admin 2018-08-21T17:23:15+00:00 June 4th, 2006|Categories: Poetry, Blesok no. 48|0 Comments
A flashing light will mean I’m not alone. A moment later maybe I’ll hear your voice, or that of a [...]
admin 2018-08-21T17:23:14+00:00 June 4th, 2006|Categories: Poetry, Blesok no. 48|0 Comments
Translated from Belarusian by Jim McGarrahcompulsory happiness was handed out yesterday on some unknown Strasse. someone came up to me [...]
admin 2018-08-21T17:23:14+00:00 June 4th, 2006|Categories: Prose, Literature, Blesok no. 48|0 Comments
Isaac had been standing on the afterdeck for hours. He was a nice enough kid, but a little strange. When [...]
admin 2018-08-21T17:23:14+00:00 June 4th, 2006|Categories: Prose, Literature, Blesok no. 48|0 Comments
She was just an ugly old lady living in a small apartment. Nevertheless, a lack of love had given her [...]
admin 2018-08-21T17:23:14+00:00 June 4th, 2006|Categories: Essays, Literature, Blesok no. 48|0 Comments
What distinguishes 'literature' from 'light fiction'? Umberto Eco looks to the past for an answer I've read that there have [...]
admin 2018-08-21T17:23:14+00:00 June 4th, 2006|Categories: Reviews, Literature, Blesok no. 48|0 Comments
"This is It, Your", by Magdalena Horvat, published by Makedonska rec, 2006.#1 Reading Magdalena Horvat's debut poetry collection, I was [...]
admin 2018-08-21T17:23:15+00:00 June 4th, 2006|Categories: Reviews, Literature, Blesok no. 48|0 Comments
#1 Bittersweet Pieces. Even if that did not actually apply to modern Dutch literature as a whole, it would certainly [...]
admin 2018-08-21T17:23:15+00:00 June 4th, 2006|Categories: Poetry, Blesok no. 48|0 Comments
Translated from Hebrew by Vivian Eden and Karen Alkalay-GutIt is not the forest that wanders in the thicket of our [...]
admin 2018-08-21T17:23:15+00:00 April 16th, 2006|Categories: Poetry, Blesok no. 47|0 Comments
Translated by: Elizabeta BakovskaThe woman codriver owns half of the windshield and the mirror on the lowered sun blind The [...]
admin 2018-08-21T17:23:15+00:00 April 16th, 2006|Categories: Poetry, Blesok no. 47|0 Comments
Our bicycle music is a thrum and rattle under summer trees. It's your knee thrusting, thrusting a dark weight against [...]