“In waves / it came / brought on / by the empty garden bench / among the willows …” Karin Kaminker is a Geneva-based poet, and we feature two of her poems in this issue.
“Fact: If you want to get close to the stage, you have to prepare. Some call it a military operation. I call it war.” D.B. Miller scans the audience in the pit with a series of vignettes.
“On November 9th, the day after the US election, I found myself in Houston. Having finished a speaking engagement at the university, I was visiting a dear friend. In need of solace, we went to the Rothko Chapel—a gathering place for civil rights activists from around the world, and an interfaith sanctuary for contemplation.” – Darcy Alexandra, organiser of the Writers Resist event in Zurich.
“The result is a sobering realisation of how quickly a society can shift from progressive to reactionary, and how much must be done by those who defend the democratic ideal. Most of all, we acknowledge the power of words.” J.J. Marsh pens a response to January’s Writers Resist event in Zürich.
Charles Blass, Zürich-based poet and DJ for Radio LoRa, performs his poem, ‘Resurrection’.
“This is punk. This is what it’s for. A woman half my age is my teacher. And she didn’t come here to dance.” D.B. Miller faces off the Petrol Girls and Dead Kennedys in her new series.
“Get out on the highway! Rouse the rabble, have a dabble. Who am I … to start something?” Zürich-based poet Claire Doble responds to the theme of ‘Beginnings’ with a spoken-word poem.
Zürich-based poet and journalist Claire Doble wrestles with what it means to have money while living in one of the richest countries in the world …
In a short work of fiction, author Paul Knott contemplates the meaning of home through the eyes of an asylum-seeker.
Environmental adaptation: contemplative prose from Zürich-based Canadian writer Sherida Deeprose.
Three poems by Emily Bilman The Corn-Cradle Steered by the swallows, we plant our tents on the land, the cradle of corn, olive, sage, fig and barley. In the wild thorn and thistle fields, I tend the goats, as they bolt against the shrubs, ejecting stones as they slip downhill, an indigo cloak screening my skin from the arid swirling dust. Along sombre shades of path, darkness slowly descends upon the sand-fields. A yellow-eyed leopard...
Geneva-based poet, Sue Le Mesurier’s response to the theme ‘Plunder’