I Read Poetry I read poetry, I read works by Lithuanian poets and foreign poets, I read in all the languages that I was able to, and pain bled through me. How can a person be so subtle, how can there be so much nuance in language, so many mysteries, so many forbidden and desired […]
My father called about an hour ago and told me that I have a brother. I don’t trust my father. Once, he returned from a trip in Italy, France, or Malta and gifted me a Polaroid of him standing near some kind of castle surrounded by palm trees, shaking the hand of a tall Black
Deividas Preišegalavičius Read More »
Out of Bounds and Beneath Bridges or, Get Thee under a Bridge! People, cities, and things have no constancy. They change. They are even inclined to change completely, to negate themselves, to slough off their old skin and reemerge anew. I like this aspect of things. It suits me. But, to be more exact, it’s
Excerpts The global quarantine of 2020 was like the game musical chairs. Wherever you were on planet earth when the music stopped and the quarantine went into effect, that’s where you stayed. I found myself on a sandy strip of shifting dunes held tentatively in place by ancient forests of pines and firs. The Curonian
Kissing a selfie The moment when your smartphone falls out of your hands and shatters on the tarmac, you don’t feel any anger or pity or irritation (which would be understandable since you’ve just lost about 440 euros in a single second); you only feel regret. ‘Oh, how sad that I don’t have a phone
Esther’s Scissors I’ll call her by her biblical name—Esther—I’m allowed to now. That’s the name the rabbi used, not so long ago, when he recited the prayers calling her into eternity and sprinkled the first three handfuls of earth onto her shrunken body, a body already cut off from the world of the living. In
Mindaugas Kvietkauskas Read More »
The Beauty Machine And hearing the wind Rush rustling through these bushes, I pit its speech against infinite silence -Giacomo Leopardi A curled pink snout with two warmth- and life-signaling openings, blue eyes rimmed in a soft ring of eyelashes. Spoon-like ears that remind one of the fuzzy heads of
About Travelling Writers Traditionally, any serious discussion of global themes must begin with Adam and Eve. I will begin my own from a somewhat later time, from the story of Cain and Abel, and hope that my own authority doesn’t suffer as a result. “Cain was, of course, cursed, and his punishment, like his
Eugenijus Ališanka Read More »
