Goodbye. Das große Fressen ist vorbei. Die Zunge ist gelockert. Der Wein schiebt das Karussell an, der Wein hält und schiebt und hält und schiebt und hält um schließlich anzuschieben das Karussell an. Unter der Zunge taut und friert und taut und friert um schließlich ganz Rutschbahn zu sein, ein Blitzeis nach dem Fressen. Da
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Stabat mater dolorosa Stood the mother weeping Over the coffin of her son She was holding a photo of him In a frame Her son a soldier, aged twenty-five * The mother didn’t shout, she wasn’t loud A pretty young woman in black clothes Her pain was decent and deep Not ostentatious She didn’t beat
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Our wonderful Literary Parlor returns with a very special holiday edition: Svetlana interviewed some of her Gen Z students and they share some of their own poetry with us.
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LeipGlo contributor Indigo shares a selection of poems and shares intimately personal background into what real-life inspirations and experiences motivated each unique piece.
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A shot of Späti-inspired nostalgia and poetry for our readers sharing in the woes and boredom of lockdown life (among snowflakes here). #ApartTogether #Flockdown
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LeipGlo is very happy to share here an excerpt from "Carbon," a new, exciting, hybrid piece of literature by accomplished writer Svetlana Lachovkina, creator of our Literary Parlor column. She headlines our next open mic, online, Feb 19.
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