“A dying person was well watched.” The Green Fool, P. Kavanagh. • And yet what nonsense this notion […]
Category Archive: essay[s]
Maria’s words are elegant, italic. My own are clumsy, straight. ******** Bell persists in duty: May I change […]
It comes down to drift. Direction, velocity, the forces that impose both. Just a few decades ago, a […]
The only Mai Tai my father will drink is a Trader Vic’s Mai Tai. 1 whole lime squeezed […]
“I have been reading steadily for seventeen years; when I go down I want to start writing”. What Penelope […]
Looking at Despentes’ books that have not been translated into English alongside those that have _ _ _ […]
It was 7:30pm and we were already late for the Improv show, Alhamra’s Hall III already with a […]
It is hard to find a point to begin because there was no moment of revelation. It was […]
I have just read Southeaster, a novel by the Argentine writer Haroldo Conti. For the translator, Jon Lindsay […]
OUTSIDE IN Leach and I leave the gallery. Dusk still hums. Texas spring dusks are Arctic. Instead of […]
minor literature[s] 