Late, Mr. Said, Late by Mitja Lovše

[tabby title="Poem"] You are a stone now,your life reduced to a placepeople visit toremember how you were like,before you got holed up here. [tabby title="Poet Bio"] Mitja Lovše is a writer, a performer and a director from Slovenia. He works...

Prometheus Laughs by Mitja Lovše

[tabby title="Poem"] Our reality?Shut beyond recognition.We built another,where we can be anything.Prepare the replacement, please? [tabby title="Poet Bio"] Mitja Lovše is a writer, a performer and a director from Slovenia. He works within the fields of theatre, film, television and...

Let This Come Down by Mitja Lovše

[tabby title="Poem"] A hippie with glassessurvived the 80'sas a casualty of cocaineand bad haircuts. He re-ups his beliefin the goodnesswith many doobiesand no Scooby. When he picks his flute,he notices a problem –there is no one aroundto pay attention to....

Wave After Wave by Mitja Lovše

[tabby title="Poem"] Frankly, we lost.The strewn bodieson the coasts we founddidn't really warn us, yes. Frankly, we sucked.There were other signsthe place might be crap,but we are where we are. Frankly, we died.Do not be surprised,this had been the drill,we...

Gentrocalypse by Mitja Lovše

[tabby title ="Poem"] The reasons stand clear,the riches were cherishedand the poor got hurt –some have survived well,while the others haven't. [tabby title ="Poet Bio] Mitja Lovše is a writer, a performer and a director from Slovenia. He works within...