Stories

You think you’re going to experience something, and you may even actually experience it, but then suddenly you realize that you didn’t experience anything, and it doesn’t bother you at all. It doesn’t bother you that you can’t remember anything about what you didn’t experience and what you experienced. It doesn’t (...)
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Grochów

Down Garwolińska to the end, then hang a right onto Makowska along the railroad tracks toward Olszynka. Sometimes all the way to the roundhouse. The street looked like a village road; on hot days it would be lined with guys sitting and drinking. Branches of fruit trees reached over the fences. (...)
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Julian Kornhauser

Been and Gone


A Piece of Glass has blood on it a scarcely visible droplet of blood lifted from the floor grits its teeth it belonged to a glass those were the days when tea nestled down in it gently it felt its cheeks grow flushed with emotion the world seemed so pure and noble deprived now of wholeness with the trace of human pain it falls into the bin's abyss and shatters into nothingness Been and Gone been and gone between been and gone a small white hairline crack a narrow pass an insignificant pause but that was where so much happened of flights and falls of feeling anticipations dancing in dreams meetings on hills and at the edge of woods been - what's hot and supple in sudden illumination was foolish treacherous but filled with unknown meaning is gone for its foundations didn't tremble little been little gone been long gone just like that and in between dry grass touched with the scythe of the sun the monastery on the river the train's troubling rumble tiny pieces of gravel on the road to the valley Translated by Jean Ward

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