A Room of One’s Own: Subversion and Seduction
or: The Woman With Many Heads1. Virginia Exactly seventy years have passed in October 1988 since October 1982, when Virginia [...]
admin 2018-08-21T17:24:01+00:00 January 1st, 1999|Categories: Reviews, Blesok no. 06, Literature|0 Comments
or: The Woman With Many Heads1. Virginia Exactly seventy years have passed in October 1988 since October 1982, when Virginia [...]
admin 2018-08-21T17:24:01+00:00 January 1st, 1999|Categories: Poetry, Blesok no. 06|0 Comments
I. it looked as if the sky was a king-size bed and you were not there to watch it with [...]
admin 2018-08-21T17:24:00+00:00 January 1st, 1999|Categories: Poetry, Blesok no. 06|0 Comments
There's a man who knows all about us. There are papers about where we went wrong. There are computers fed [...]
admin 2018-08-21T17:24:00+00:00 January 1st, 1999|Categories: Prose, Blesok no. 06, Literature|0 Comments
She appeared from nowhere. From the blue Washington sky or from the damp sticky air or from the very cupola [...]
admin 2018-08-21T17:24:01+00:00 January 1st, 1999|Categories: Prose, Blesok no. 06, Literature|0 Comments
The caller was usually quite embarrassed. – You don’t know me – he or she would stutter out – but [...]
admin 2018-08-21T17:24:01+00:00 January 1st, 1999|Categories: Essays, Blesok no. 06, Literature|0 Comments
“I appeal to any white man if ever he entered Logan's cabin hungry, and he gave him not to eat; [...]
admin 2018-08-21T17:24:03+00:00 October 1st, 1998|Categories: Poetry, Blesok no. 05|0 Comments
My faith is lifted by the old cities, reflections of the offspring, through a long history. I look at the [...]
admin 2018-08-21T17:24:02+00:00 October 1st, 1998|Categories: Poetry, Blesok no. 05|0 Comments
Translated by Reginald De Bray © The Leros Press, 1985You saw me in a dream and I in the North [...]
admin 2018-08-21T17:24:02+00:00 October 1st, 1998|Categories: Prose, Blesok no. 05, Literature|0 Comments
Old Mrs. Vadnai was dying. “She has two or three weeks to live,” said the doctor, “it's arteriosclerosis in its [...]
admin 2018-08-21T17:24:02+00:00 October 1st, 1998|Categories: Prose, Blesok no. 05, Literature|0 Comments
Death seemed like some kind of an optical instrument, which was turning even the water-drop into a complex bee-hive of [...]