“I think he does not care for art; I fancy he has not even read Pushkin.”
The distant past returned—what part of it, he could not decide.
For my vacation last summer, I visited the Bateer family in Xiwuqi.
My grandfather committed my grandmother to a mental asylum.
Neither blood nor belonging accounted for my presence in Ghana.
Man is always beginning everything anew, even in his own life.
Chess was a humiliation that hung over him like a leper’s bell.
It was true. We would probably never visit that place again.
She favoured me with an even more viciously scornful “Don’t care!”
I was convinced she’d be back in the morning, like the sun.
After breakfast I set out to see what my wild neighbors have been up to.
However hard you try to make amends, they will still condemn you.
The guards ripped off Mara’s clothes, pinning her head against the wall.
The animals are dying. All the beautiful women are dying too.
All night the insects’ grinding jaws chewed through the darkness.
Our life is fine as it is, she would say to him, and it seemed true.
The event was an accelerator. So much matter crashed, vaporized.
From the flight deck Gray could see home, wherever that might be.
This is the day when the saints all go silently to church in France.
Devanand Simon was twenty-five when the bodies fell from the sky.
I couldn’t love the tree in every soul shouldering its own tiny autumn.
He fell to the floor and begged the gods. The gods were silent.
Karen was, in that moment, nothing, emptiness. She was oblivion.
We have harvested nothing more than the stench of middle age.
do you asks pretty sue know what I love what pretty please tell us
When she sleeps, Shakespeare writes one more sonnet we’ll never read.
Your soul feels old and familiar like a book that opens to my favorite pages.
That’s why Mam drinks whiskey. That’s why he drinks whiskey too.
Suddenly, all of the past seemed now like the same endless race.
I do not want to fall prey to the bewitchment of my mind by language.