Tracing Szilárd Borbély’s Poetry in The Dispossessed | Asymptote

Dispossessed

 

Because language is like night-time. Moist,
an indecipherable series of grunts. Pure dread, and
inchoate visceral shrieking. It is inhuman.

from “On the wings of freedom”

Tracing Szilárd Borbély’s Poetry in The Dispossessed | Asymptote

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