selected past writing at 42opus


Glistening by JEN CURRIN

Tiger said why are you

so pretty. I have seen you in pearls

and laces. At night

kissing each part of your nothing.

2 September 2004 | poetry


Knuckled Under by MARK DECARTERET

We will chalk out where

your heart balked forever,

mangled into some kind

of a horseshoe, lucked

over for the very last time—

12 January 2010 | poetry


Hermann and Dorothea: 6. Clio by JOHANN WOLFGANG VON GOETHE

Now when the foreign judge had been by the minister questioned

As to his people's distress, and how long their exile had lasted,

Thus made answer the man: "Of no recent date are our sorrows;

Since of the gathering bitter of years our people have drunken…

13 June 2005 | poetry, classic, translation


The Mysterious Bride by JAMES HOGG

A great number of people nowadays are beginning broadly to insinuate that there are no such things as ghosts, or spiritual beings visible to mortal sight. Even Sir Walter Scott is turned renegade, and, with his stories made up of half-and-half, like Nathaniel Gow's toddy, is trying to throw cold water on the most certain, though most impalpable, phenomena of human nature. The bodies are daft. Heaven mend their wits! Before they had ventured to assert such things, I wish they had been where I have often been; or, in particular, where the Laird of Birkendelly was on St. Lawrence's Eve, in the year 1777, and sundry times subsequent to that.

8 October 2007 | fiction, short story, classic, horror, ghost story

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