Farhad Showghi Biography

What ever happens: we've got several birch trees by
the open window, and anything will match with them. Every
hand gesture, a start, perhaps, a piece of paper.
Or the row of houses in rain or sun or as
...

We look at windows and balconies as we look
at a pack of deer. But we make no sound
to rouse them, we don't duck down beneath any broad horizon
we just sit down. We're quite happy, drinking and smoking,
...

This hazy, busy place. Red houses follow red
goats. We draw up plans. Speak goat and
sparkler, goat-not-kid. That should be no
surprise, we rattle bells, the sun's out. We
...

The city map doesn't stop. Extroverted bush
and boxfires, marches across beets for onions
and cedars. We try something, know the names
...

I open something, but sunlight separates my
shoulder blade. A grocery shop shines
vulnerable, swinging in the neighbour's backyard. Now
I walk along the street, exchanging words with bushes
...