12th Nadirism: (Warning, this entry includes the use of an anti-Roma slur. I have decided to translate it with that term because the...

10th Nadirism A poem came to me with teary eyes and asked: write me down. There’s no time to waste. So I took pity on the poem’s teary...

6th Nadirism For the time being, I carry the “wine of literature” in my pockets, or cupped between my palms, without a language, without...

2nd Nadirism: The Writer’s “Soul.” The writer possesses nothing more than the word, with which they shoot up flares from the distant...

When my flesh is consumed, my blood dried, my bones whittled down--then I will become fine literature: perfumed as the withered grasses;...