A headband, you say? You’re ridiculous.

I allowed myself to be very playful and unafraid, and to try everything.

The most horrible things, remember this, are incremental.

nothing is certain but and taxes

Soon the volunteers will arrive

Norway’s Laila Stien tracks a group of Sámi herders guiding their reindeer on the seasonal migration to the north, fighting obstacles both natural and man-made.

Entwined concrete houses / perform pirouettes on both sides of the street

Fear sets up a tent / on our chest

We already know there are no words for saying some things.

I abhor humanitarianism.

Perhaps I will poison a petrol engineer’s coffee.

If I was a cactus, what kind of plant was Midori?

Some weekends my parents and I went from Mardin to Syria and stayed in Kamışlı, the town nearest to the Turkish border. Although it was a town, I compared Kamışlı, with its wide, well-kept roads, its…

No one knows he used to be a man

An anthologist from Berlin asks mefor poems new or recognized:ideally, they should amplifythe union of love and death.I’d like to suit her, since I’m dying,but love is a master from outer…

How do the gardens of Sham transform me?

Photographs of a former girlfriend develop into a problem in Jung Mi Kyung's short story.

Romanian writer Matei Călinescu pens an anguished eulogy for his son.

Instead of talking, they seem to be patting each other with words, spreading a soothing, sonorous saliva over one another.

The schoolchildren fill their backpacks / with tiny bombs.

And so we repeat the round / of night and day