Gordana Benić Biography

The city stopped at the point of my pen. And power multiplied like steps on a smooth dancefloor. And the evening's necklace, like eyes strung on the track of the dark, began to rustle.
Meshed summers behind the doors of houses and inhabitants from quiet shadows sensed this prismatic joy in the bready warmth of the sun and deaf peace of the rain.
...

Vulcan's black lizard of Jabuka Island, volcanic Avalon, shapeshifts into a malignant reptile's mobile body, a long-legged bird, membrane of a butterfly and snail. Carved in a dark hour from crooked craters overgrown with greyed grass. As the worm bores into the apple.
...

Nothing in this room is mine.
When I close my eyes the walls move apart, slant
into thin surfaces; so quickly do they change.
...

Sometimes ships are greater than houses,
brighter than streets. Cracks in the walls draw them together
to the city's innermost, disperse them to the beach.
...

All four quarters of the world begin from an occult
groundplan.
The sketch of the inverted city is like
a chessboard. In black-and-white fields
...