Marco North: Landyshi (their ocean)
At night, the trees bend hard. The crows are awake, chattering their secret language in the darkness.
August 9, 2019 · Leave a comment
Marco North: The Street of Flowers
Two weeks ago, I spied those splotches of blood against the white concrete, the roses scattered across the sidewalk. I imagined it was a fist fight or a knifing at … Continue reading
January 16, 2019 · Leave a comment
Marco North: Moscow 2018 — The Migrant
I load the tiny Leica at the kitchen table, the CL that almost fits in my palm. There are piles of broken asphalt downstairs and the remnants of a flash … Continue reading
December 5, 2018 · Leave a comment
