Letter from the Editor
It’s hard to believe more than a year has passed since I started working as Editor of Alchemy. One of the most important goals when I took on this role was to continue the legacy of the journal. Namely, to …
Category: Winter 2014
Issue 5 Winter 2014’s collection of publications.
I am twenty-three years old
1. I am twenty-three years old but today I played in the sea like I was ten, eleven at best. I blasted through the waves until I reached the shore and then I went back in leaping over the foam. …
In a tomb I build my house, and in the dark
I. In a tomb I build my house, and in the dark I make my bed; I have made a pact with my eyes, “The eyes of those who see me will see me no more: your eyes will be …
Honeymoon
One whole September I was never without him So much so I frequently turned my head to look around for fear there was a shadow following me Waves lapping on the island schools of fish in the water we gradually …
There Were Two Sleepless Nights
There were two sleepless nights that carried the sound of imaginary footsteps little by little I sat up in bed I opened the door I saw you your hair was damp the unripe flavor of tree leaves are you my …
In an African city
I. In an African city, In Cartagena where I live, In the small and narrow street, So narrow you can barely believe it; I can reach with my hand the balcony Of the neighbors across the street. There, the lovely …
In Order to Live I Do Not Need
In order to live I do not need islands, palaces, towers. What a great joy it is: to live among pronouns! Take off the costumes, already, the gestures, the portraits; I don’t want you so, unmasked by others, always someone …
Fins
The Siren is a beast, usually blonde That chooses a corner for herself in a much-frequented sea And spreads herself upon a great rock On the lookout for hardy sailors With intentions that are beyond nautical. The siren yells like …
Desert Island
The children of today When they are between fifteen and twenty Are sad and quiet Afraid of of vicious old men They get bored in cafés And nothing makes an effect on them And when you speak softly to them …
Through The Window
Anka was sitting by the window, looking into the yard. There, sitting on a bench, were Neža and Karmen, giggling, leaning in together in laughter. It seemed to her that they were, from time to time, peering up at her …