Paulius Norvila is a twenty-seven year old poet from Lithuania whose first collection, Septyni Metų Laikai (“Seven Seasons”), was well received when it was published in Vilnius in 2006. His second collection of poetry was released this year. Rimas Uzgiris‘ poetry has been published in Atlanta Review, 322 Review, Lituanus, Prime
Con Son “She’s become insane . . . unable to sleep for fifteen days, believing herself to be a pampered dog that could only eat bread and milk. Not being given these, she refused to eat and became so weak she couldn’t talk. When the wind blew she wanted to fly.” -Father Chan Tin, Vietnamese
Indrė Valantinaitė is a fresh voice in Lithuanian poetry. Her debut collection Žuvim ir lelijom (For fish and lilies) won the 2006 First Book Contest of the Lithuanian Union of Writers. Her second book Pasakos apie meilę ir kitus žvėris (Stories about love and other animals) was published in 2011 and won the 2012 Young
Momento mori I sip my tea and observe the boot of God heavy in the sky. The waiting is about to be crumpled to bits by its pointy top. Threatened by a cloud yet not merely a cloud, a weathergod, I sit back and catnap until it morphs into a bear or a galloping horse.
from Agnes the Elephant from Asteroid •• deafness, a catapult into spaceness—light makes what you call something •• the place you are in is also in space I don’t care if it’s inside or even if it is true you’re a fish I’ll never even see •• catapulting bodies into space saves lives in the
Scraps I throw on a trench coat and tuck my pen inside the breast pocket only to pull out an old ticket stub for Paris or the birth plan of our first child, the day dissolved into another lifetime, my fork slicing a square of foi gras in the Crémerie-Restaurant Polidor, bumping elbows with the
1989: Willsboro, NY, A-1 Market Three sisters walked arm-in-arm down the meat aisle, past lean cuts packed beneath frosted plastic wrap, where teenage boys wore aprons tied not too tightly but enough to keep their stomachs down, because you should not breathe in front of a girl, or girls, especially ones who wore the same
SELF PORTRAIT: POLAROID Our very own Pharmacopoia blonde In blue powder eye shadow, or Luminous nurse of the locked ward, This sweet, licked delirium. Of teeth, Dirt, and seed. Alone, in my dream Room, listening careful For the second coming. ARE THEN SEEN AND PURSUED Cords of voices are unspooling inside my head. White-gloved
