By Alexandra Baff 1835 I still don’t understand why we had to leave. Why would anyone want to leave the sunny, beautiful, majestic south of France? As we arrive in Algeria, into a city called Oran, I recall my tedious journey by boat. My mother and father constantly reassured me that this would be an … Continue reading Je Suis Un Pied Noir
The Untranslatable: Empêchement
By Thomas Page This is a series of poems of words that do not directly translate into English. I have tried to capture the essence of the word in a poem. Everyone expects the weekend to mean something more than the week Because we are not bound to the rock of the workplace That … Continue reading The Untranslatable: Empêchement
The Untranslatable: Retrouvailles
By Thomas Page The Untranslatable This is a series of poems of words that do not directly translate into English. I have tried to capture the essence of the word in a poem. I was working near the mainstage With a clicker in my hand And a mappack at my waist As the summer sun … Continue reading The Untranslatable: Retrouvailles
No Future
By Victor Schegin This is an artwork of my dystopia-themed series. The meaning of the text written on the canvas is exactly what you think. This piece supposes feelings, memories, and pieces of you are material. People began selling, buying, trading them some time ago. Through this 116 x 81 cm work I want … Continue reading No Future
“Continental”
By Thomas Page I am student teaching a senior level class in Washington, DC. They have to write some poems on these prompts. I decided to try all 30 of them. However, I will not say what the prompt was but what its number was. Prompt #4 Marley, free as a flea on her Harley, … Continue reading “Continental”
The Untranslatable: Flâner
By Thomas Page The Untranslatable This is a series of poems of words that do not directly translate into English. I have tried to capture the essence of the word in a poem. St. Denis’ labyrinth is welcome to little ulysseses Looking to find nothing in particular But to melt time into gold of sorts,— … Continue reading The Untranslatable: Flâner
PASCALE
By Bruce Hodder The rain was dripping from the winter trees in Pere Lachaise the day I found Pascale. Years before, she was my greatest crush, with those big sad eyes and all her hair piled up in front. Her high voice curled my toes. We talked a while. She asked how Paris was … Continue reading PASCALE
