Thierry Le Pennec

2018-12-22T06:12:27+01:00

Thier­ry Le Pen­nec est  né en 1955 dans la région parisi­enne. Il vit dans les Côtes d’Armor. Il est agricul­teur et jar­dinier. Il reçoit  le prix de poésie 2005 de la Ville d’Angers.

Poèmes choi­sis

Autres lec­tures

Željko Mitić

Željko Mitić (1976) is the author of one full-length book of poet­ry Neon Insom­nia (Mat­i­ca Srp­s­ka, Novi Sad, 2007). His work has appeared in Tema, Cron­i­ca, Lung­full, Eklek­so­graphia, Esque, 3 AM Mag­a­zine and other […]

Charlie Manson Came to Serbia

  Char­lie Man­son came to Ser­bia though no one thought it could hap­pen he arrived around the same time the Guča fes­ti­val was pro­mot­ed to an event of nation­al impor­tance though nobody invit­ed him […]

Subtraction/Oduzimanje

  I was read­ing a poet who felt sor­ry for a bee he had killed I nev­er met him to ask him if he ever repent­ed for what he had done one June afternoon […]

Neon Insomnia/Neonska nesanica

  All that was nec­es­sary Was but a moment Between two blinks Of a neon ad Beneath our win­dow So you could pro­nounce What both of us Had known for long: This land Will […]

My Last Words/Moje reči na samrti

  Maybe the end real­ly is nigh. In Feb­ru­ary + 18˚C above me a huge white cloud in the shape of a rabbit’s head I call it Big Heff Last night gets back at […]

Vladimir Kopicl

Vladimir Kopi­cl is born in 1949 in Ser­bia. He lives and work uin Novi Sad. He has pub­lished poet­ry, essays and trans­la­tions. For his lit­er­ary work he has won sev­er­al awards: the  Branko’s  award […]

NEW CLASS

  Just there where a rep­tile and an eagle crossed their paths Retain­ing loy­al­ty both to base­ness and pride A new class will be born. Not to think of peo­ple Is not a course […]

CLEARLY

  As soon as he approached the house The house stepped away: Or it sim­ply froze as a vampire’s chest. In his four hands he holds three horse­shoes. For an event like this one […]

APPARITIONS

  I will for­get about every day, sun­ny vagi­nas of Rio and  jumpy jin­gles. I will for­get about every night, dark forms, and appari­tions, and shad­ows of my par­ents. Every­thing that mat­ters and which […]

Je vois une tourmente

  Je vois une tour­mente, une tour­mente de neige dans ton sang la nuit est tout autour elle décou­vre une aire où déploy­er le blanc ses bour­rasques, ses envols, des tournoiements Tu ne dors […]

Sommaires

Aller en haut