is like a room with no door, where everything that will ever be is already present: "The same war story told a hundred times/the same brand of cigarettes distributed by friendly hands/and those same eyes hovering, dark and lazy./Only that."In an essay reprinted here, Lleshanaku records that following a stay in the US she discarded most of the poems she had written while there, because "I felt as if I was following the wrong star . . . It was too easy to embrace the philosophy of a culture immersed in a long tradition of individualism . . . It is a philosophy completely alien to my culture."from The Guardian: Haywire: New and Selected Poems by Luljeta Lleshanaku--review
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