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translation

Autobiography of the Other – 7 translations of “Tub” from Don Mee Choi’s translation of Kim Hyesoon’s ‘Autobiography of Death’ by Gary Barwin

1. Store

Attach your head to the box.

Do not shout or write, that’s not the problem.

Ghosts, breath, nose, brows, knee
big hands
your time has not yet come.

2. Coo

Light on your room over the ice.

Do not worry, the year after anguish.

Encouraged by the team, the mosquitoes, the controversies, the pilots involved
birdsong
but your sound did not arrive.

Continue reading “Autobiography of the Other – 7 translations of “Tub” from Don Mee Choi’s translation of Kim Hyesoon’s ‘Autobiography of Death’ by Gary Barwin”
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“Holy Helpers” two spell images by Leif Holmstrand and “Instructions” by Leif Holmstrand translated by Johannes Göransson

Continue reading ““Holy Helpers” two spell images by Leif Holmstrand and “Instructions” by Leif Holmstrand translated by Johannes Göransson”

LINGUABRASIONS by Patricia Hartland

Continue reading “LINGUABRASIONS by Patricia Hartland”

To Return by Fernando Sdrigotti

My clothes smelled of fried food — a stench without a clear origin. And the lights of the boulevard stabbed my eyes, bouncing off the glass in Pig’s taxi — the windows, the mirrors. Lights and the stench of fried food.

“I missed that…” I said.
“I asked if you tried virtual sex,” repeated Diego. Continue reading “To Return by Fernando Sdrigotti”

Bomb Nostalgic by Mauricio Montiel Figueiras

The silence that covers the Nevada desert on this reddish afternoon in 1951 can only be classified as geologic. Layers of stillness have accumulated like mineral strata, forming a desolate mountain range that raises across the wasteland. Even the sky is somewhat mineral: the thin creases of clouds make one think of streaks at the bottom of a blue deposit, the kind that yield only to the sun’s radiant picks. The air possesses an earth-colored quality that stings the eye and obliges ceremonial blinking; a ceremony that Doug Ferguson has practiced since 1947, when he crossed the anonymous doors of Lookout Mountain Studios for the first time to sign a contract and exchange a good salary for absolute secrecy. Continue reading “Bomb Nostalgic by Mauricio Montiel Figueiras”

Disjecta – Caesura – Membra, from ‘& The Little Light That Escaped (Vedute)’, by Alexander Booth

Disjecta

A face glimpsed as if framed through a space between the lattice-work of a bench, a day-drinking bar on a shade-lined street of turn-of-the-century buildings, Mediterranean maybe, looking for what, lower lip pinned to upper, unsure, a question: a face glimpsed as if framed through a space between the lattice-work of a bench upon which one word was seen: nostalgie.

But back at the beginning: the station was blue. His face a ruin. Rain.

Someone had disappeared. Continue reading “Disjecta – Caesura – Membra, from ‘& The Little Light That Escaped (Vedute)’, by Alexander Booth”

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