Abdallah Zrika’s ‘Funeral of the Snow Grenade’
2020-12-21
“A dead language in the throat of a dead poet. Assassins only wait for the day of the feast. Cemeteries are only full of white beds.”Continue Reading
Between Green and Blue: A Conversation with Abdallah Zrika
2019-09-02
“Poetry, for me, seeks that which is foundational, a negation of the difference between the word and the thing.”Continue Reading
Friday Finds: Zrika’s ‘Sun Tearing the Page’s Flesh’
2019-04-19
The second, “Mice in the Wardrobe of Solitude,” closes with a gorgeous, terrifying image of the world as a refrigerator, which, when opened, gives off nothing: “but the odor / of the white / rotted by the ice.”Continue Reading
