Oil production shrinks, corporations only secure / cash flows in downstream oil. A downward spiral / The fat red balloon has burst / The pink scoop of strawberry ice cream has fallen / out of the cone and melted on boiling hot asphalt
So, the bad news first. All of a sudden, we have rivers. No one saw it coming. All of a sudden we have mountains, seas, and lakes—yes indeed, we have bodies of water. Still water, rushing water, water gushing up from the deep.
Translated by Alexander Booth
And now we’re standing, and I noticed that even with great attention and inasmuch as I had turned to my reading with great attention, that is, took up every word, every phrase, with the greatest devotion, I could not stop unexpected images from arising in my head and changing into other new images, that is, the images...
An excerpt from My Red Heaven
by Lance Olsen
In a warm pasture overlooking the Austrian village of Stockerau, six-year-old Ernst Herbeck nibbles a long blade of grass, back against an oak, inhaling the loamy moistness of cow patties, daydreaming of Berlin.
He has never been there.
He will never go.
He has seen photographs.
He was too...
by Andreas Unterweger
I never met the snake, but the wife did.
The wife saw it, not me. I know
that there are no snakes. There are no snakes,
at least not here, not in our garden—
this is what I told the wife God knows how many times.
There are no snakes around here,
I told her, just as there are no angels.