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THE DREAM PULLS MY MEMORY FROM A WELL
I AM SERVED MEMORY FOR BREAKFAST!

INSIDE THE DREAM I SHALL HAVE TO UNLEARN
THE BITTERNESS OF THE WARHUNGRY CAPITALIST LIFE
THE EMPTY MEANINGS OF THE LOBBYING FIRM!
THE LANGUAGE THAT TURNS ME CRUEL AND USEFUL!

IN THE DREAM I AM REQUIRED ONLY BY MY LOVERS
NEVER THE EXTRACTIVE DRILLS OF THE OILEATERS!
I HAVE BEEN UNMADE BY THE DREAM OF GOD
I HAVE BEEN RELEASED FROM MEANING!

THE SUN BURNS NEW MEANING ONTO MY SKIN!
I AM CRISP WITH NEWNESS
THE DREAM VOMITS UP THE SLUDGE OF ABANDONMENT
SWIMMING IN THE SLUDGE IS A MCKINSEY CONSULTANT!
SWIMMING IN THE SLUDGE IS ARTHUR BALFOUR!
THEY DROWN

I AM THE LOVE OF THE DREAM EMBODIED!
I WILLINGLY DISSOLVE MY BITTER ATTACHMENTS!
THE DREAM IS A FUTURISM OF THE SPIRIT!
THE SPIRIT IS AN ORALITY!
THE SLUDGE IS A STATE DEPARTMENT!
MY MEMORY RETURNS ME TO THE GREAT EARTHDREAM!
PALESTINE IS A DREAM OF THE FUTURE!
FUTURE IS A PALESTINE OF THE DREAMING!



Fargo Tbakhi is a queer Palestinian-American performance artist. A Pushcart and Best of the Net nominee, his writing can be found in The Shallow Ends, Mizna, Peach Mag, Strange Horizons, Apex Mag, and elsewhere. Find more at fargotbakhi.com.
Current Issue
22 Apr 2024

We’d been on holiday at the Shoon Sea only three days when the incident occurred. Dr. Gar had been staying there a few months for medical research and had urged me and my friend Shooshooey to visit.
...
Tu enfiles longuement la chemise des murs,/ tout comme d’autres le font avec la chemise de la mort.
The little monster was not born like a human child, yelling with cold and terror as he left his mother’s womb. He had come to life little by little, on the high, three-legged bench. When his eyes had opened, they met the eyes of the broad-shouldered sculptor, watching them tenderly.
Le petit monstre n’était pas né comme un enfant des hommes, criant de froid et de terreur au sortir du ventre maternel. Il avait pris vie peu à peu, sur la haute selle à trois pieds, et quand ses yeux s’étaient ouverts, ils avaient rencontré ceux du sculpteur aux larges épaules, qui le regardaient tendrement.
We're delighted to welcome Nat Paterson to the blog, to tell us more about his translation of Léopold Chauveau's story 'The Little Monster'/ 'Le Petit Monstre', which appears in our April 2024 issue.
For a long time now you’ve put on the shirt of the walls,/just as others might put on a shroud.
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