Peter Constantine
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Poetry is not solace, it is not a song of joy and of sadness, it is not a haven in the mouth of a blind man, it is not a museum. Poetry is not an almanac of meanings on t…
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Photo by Sean Thomas / Unsplash return oh, that fish could swim through my garden again! Stately as whale sharks, speckled pacifists, or goldfish freed from small glass domes like…
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Photo by Katerina Cheiladaki Translator’s note: Arvanitika, or Arberishte as it is called in the Corinthian mountain villages, is one of the many languages in the world facing extin…
- To a Poltergeist in the Bedroom’s Northward Wall Your senile hollow knocking hasremained ever the same, nodevelopment, no punctuation,you repeat yourself day after day,night after g…