703 entries in Mag: Articles

After Half a Life

1 After half a life: selva oscura. The dog that I was. Jesus-mittens nailed onto treetips—the Lord had large hands. Blooms made of ejaculate. I walked on. Deeper into the woods.   2 King of…...

as a mouse

“muxmäuschen” © Simone Kornappel. By arrangement with the author. Translation © 2015 by Jake Schneider. All rights reserved.

Izina

History will remember this man Our grandchildren will study him between school recesses Old women will speak of him as a strange enigma A myth, an eccentric aberration . . . The old men will brush off…...

If I could live on the vision without trying to say it

What’s real isn’t this thing or that thing my presents that you gave away once they lost the weight and sheen of being given and became no more than fragile objects. What’s real isn’t…...

Fragments from the Guidebook of the Dead

Fragments from the Guidebook of the Dead                         First daytrip/ Kolafjöll…...

Mountain Hike

The tallest mountain on Mars is 24 kilometers high and I have climbed it in my dreams. I remember the view from the peak: magnificent; the blue planet swam in the half-twilight of evening. I seem to remember…...

Another Letter to Mister Brown

Did you never get my letter, Mister Brown? it was aurora pink and glittery and I poured perfume from the tester all over it Mister Brown, “I’m just a girl standing in front of a boy waiting…...

Austurvöllur on the Day of the Wake

Friday. A summer day. The sun shines. Everyone takes off socks and sweaters and jeans. Beautiful girls spread out blankets on the grass. Beautiful girls have a good day, a summer day. When evening falls,…...

Black Sea

In memory of Jónas Þorbjarnarson (1960-2012)   1. The dark kaiser’s ship, deep-keeled, cuts the water from head to head, breaks and sinks.        *…...

The Death of My Parents in the Village

The funeral meal—all of the relatives and neighbors have come. I don’t know any of them. The death of my parents in the village, it played out long ago in the future. I cannot summon the memory.…...

Bus Sequence

Bus I Wednesday arrives and my only thought is that I’m looking forward to taking the bus at noon. I didn’t know there would be days like this—days when the only thing I look forward…...

Solitary Confinement on the Seventh Floor

One day I’ll tear off my lips and eat them like candy. One day I’ll rip out my chest because I’m not an orphanage for gathering angels. One day I’ll remove the door and stand in…...

Life in Mount Carmel

Though I’m right beside it, I can’t call out to the sea: neighbor, come join me for coffee. Instead, my other neighbor Carmel visits me through the window without my permission and never even…...

Father My Unborn Son

I spill twenty liters of darkness and a childhood up against the wall A Stone-Age hand a paperback Koran Maybe I could have loved you if I was your father and not your son

The Mother and the Goddess of Night

She has walked and walked for nine long days. All of nine days and nine long nights have passed by. Weary of wandering as she is, the mad woman mutters brokenly, "Have you seen my daughter? have you seen…...

What Did Sriraman Say?

I saw the Lord, Sriraman, for the first time in an ancient alley in Choolaimedu, playing kittipul with other small boys: no naamam on his forehead. Yet another time on a footpath in Bombay, he was hawking…...

Highway

Along the highways of a refugee’s life snapshots of childhood memories hang: hedges overspread with field bean thick with honeybees, a courtyard filled with goat droppings, the shade of a portia-tree,…...

Three Dreams

The first dream… An island surrounded by a green, green sea. Everywhere, trees yielding heavenly fruit. Golden-yellow sand drifts. Fishermen at rest. The second dream… Pale blue fields. Pomegranates,…...

Fear

The little one laughs innocently, without blinking at the raised hand. Then one day she feels the pain caused by the same raised hand and her eyes tremble. Fear depends on the mind; the mind depends on…...

Ploughing the Fields of Snow

Morning comes with a denuded wind empty of cock-crow and summons of temple bells. Sleep dissolves into the alarm clock’s rebuke yet eyelids droop over eyes refusing to open hands outstretch to meet…...

Page 1 of 36 pages  1 2 3 >  Last ›