Time is Tired and Tabucchi is Dead

In memoriam: Antonio Tabucchi (24/09/1943-25/03/2012)   They say he died yesterday of cancer and I thought no he didn’t because all his books are still on my shelves hugging me like a nest of sweet dreams   and I thought no he didn’t because a few years ago a friend believed he had and I […]

Post-War Letters to My Grandmother

  I was eight, maybe nine, every couple of months my parents made me sit at the big table —the living-room one, where only guests sat— to write a letter on air-mail paper as thin as rice paper to a grandmother I had not seen since we left for France five years earlier.   I […]

Waking Up Together

  In the dead of night from black to blue to white faint bird notes fall one by one light nears   from his heart to her hand thousands of kilometers of veins capillaries in crumpled bedsheets they’ve traveled years to get there   a crow caws ahead of the alarm-clock her bloodflow the ticking […]

Farewell Childhood

  It’s hard not to think of a place where dogs met their fate on railway tracks or in unkempt backyards where a father with chapped lips planted tulips around a dying cherry tree where a mother’s screams scared dust and kids into dark corners where children watched T.V. in the garage – why in […]

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