reticulated (english poetry)

My mother worries about me, as one tends to. I can’t really write much to soothe her (and I have tried), so I wrote this one, quite a while ago, to soothe myself. It was translated from Portuguese, and it is quite old, but I have some strange affection for it. It truly does sootheContinue reading “reticulated (english poetry)”

(Droplet) – poetry in memory

The voices of the world becoming quieter and fewer. Kafka, October 21 of 1917 – “In Sunshine”, The Third Octavo Notebook. Every action of scrawling begins with fossicking old dusts in search of eventful shapes, harnessing memory as a mass of particles brought alight; cold fountains dance, pellucid, in a constellation of footfalls, and aContinue reading “(Droplet) – poetry in memory”

(Droplet) – mozambique – (English | Português)

A toy © Gökhan Kayal in Clam Collectors of Maputo Luís Carlos Patraquim lives, but I read him as if he never lived. When I cogitate of his life, I sight odd coppery faces and calcined terrains, the hollowing of plasters in the decrepit walls and fences of Lourenço Marques, a sublimation spawning the vividnessContinue reading “(Droplet) – mozambique – (English | Português)”