In the past, in the aftermath of a breakup from a long-term relationship, I tended to seek out constant external stimulation (besides validation). I tended to try to "stay high" on the rush of fleeting romances and parties that, after the fact, only left me feeling more alone and empty.
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Heiner Horlitz‘s poem takes me back to moments when a certain memory of a loved one – through an object or place associated with them – was so vivid that I almost had the feeling that the person was there and I could touch them, although they’d been long gone. This makes such an ability
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I met Kevin Dublin when he was 22 and I was a little bit older, I think at some university poetry event he’d invited me to in Wilmington, N.C. Me, practically still a rookie reporter but already on the verge of a burnout, a caustic combination of neurotic and hard-partying, running a newspaper-hosted poetry blog
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Journey through Córdoba, Spain - an ancient city that has stayed close to his heart in its hybridity, faded glory and simple pleasures.
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