[tabby title="Poem"] The Party protestsno one listen to whatthe Party declares,the economy is good. The market persists,the goods are being sold,there are no lines andanyone can get anything. Potemkin goes homeas his job is safe again,too bad about some,but business...

[tabby title="Poem"] Your broken knuckles sting,when you open the doorsyou have to in order to leavethis weight of life behind. You made your bed slowly,one click lead to anotherand you ended up leadingthe armies to the walls. They still contain...

[tabby title="Poem"] Goodbye to the timeyou could've stopped anything,the fields are burned andthe leaves don't scatter aroundas there are no trees. [tabby title="Poet Bio"] Mitja Lovše is a writer, a performer and a director from Slovenia. He works within the...

[tabby title="Poem"] An open roadthat has been closed for a whilefeels so aliento walk on after the panics,which reframed any empathy ... [tabby title="Poet Bio"] Mitja Lovše is a writer, a performer and a director from Slovenia. He works within...

[tabby title="Poem"] Another shot?'Move on,nothing to seeand to do.' A silent drinking,a slow walkto what home is,you cry there. Another day goes,more are shot,more shrug this,you still drink. 'Where have you been?''Always there to witness.' [tabby title="Poet Bio"] Mitja Lovše...