Christian Molenaar

Category: Nothings

  • Bound and Stacked

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    I lost the romance of this placeand woke up old. One darlingfantasy shattered over the next,folding over a fist drenchedin my hip. The Christmas treesare bound and stacked upoutside, the air can’t decidewhat to make of itself, and weare about to throw a presidentout. You are not your mother,and each of your dead lives onin Read more

  • Life’s Like That

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    The Minneapolis Tribune, December 4, 1937 Read more

  • Not Unlike a River

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    “Et huiusmodi stantiae usus est fere in omnibus cantionibus suisArnaldus Danielis et nos eum secuti sumus.”Dante, De Vulgari Eloquio, II. 10. Read more

  • Odd Chap

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    In the evening he went down to the bar and got a hamburger and a beer. No one spoke to him. When he went out Josie tilted her chin at him. I’m sorry, Bobby, she said. He nodded. He walked up the street. The old paving stones wet with damp. New Orleans. November 29th 1980. Read more

  • Pink Clouds

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    And so we and the world took turns flowing into and through each other: Bekker said he could feel his heart swell and when I shut my eyes tight it was as though my head was filled with golden light and blue water, and wonderful shivers ran up and down my spine. I felt the Read more

  • A Rosy Glow

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    They must have crossed the whole of Turkey by rail, down to Adana, and gone on from there to Aleppo and Beirut, and seem to have spent the best part of a fortnight in the Lebanon, for it is not till the 21st of November that “passage to Jaffa” is entered. The day they arrived Read more

  • A Different Bad Dream

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    Read more

  • Talismans

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    In Buenos Aires the Zahir is a common twenty-centavo coin into which a razor or penknife has scratched the letters N T and the number two; the date stamped on the face is 1929. (In Gujarat, at the end of the eighteenth century, Zahir was a tiger; in Java a blind man in the Sukarta Read more

  • A Model Of Its Kind

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    Excavations began in 1930 and lasted more than five years. In the final year Beaumont was visit by Bartlebooth, who had come to nearby Gijon, also an ancient capital of the Asturian kings to paint the first of his seascapes. Read more

  • Anticipating the Butcher

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    Ich höre, dass du die Hand gegen dich erhoben hastDem Schlächter zuvorkommend.Acht Jahre verbannt, den Aufstieg des Feindes beobachtendZuletzt an eine unüberschreitbare Grenze getriebenHast du, heißt es, eine überschreitbare überschritten.Reiche stürzen. Die BandenführerSchreiten daher wie Staatsmänner. Die VölkerSieht man nicht mehr unter den Rüstungen.So liegt die Zukunft in Finsternis, und die guten KräfteSind schwach. All Read more

Thought:

“Thy praise, or dispraise is to me alike,

One doth not stroke me, nor the other strike.”

Ben Jonson | “To Fool, or Knave”

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