Bojana has a fire in her that cannot be quelled. She is brilliant and unapologetic.  She loves fiercely and is incredibly kind.  She is an immensely talented writer with a story that needs to be heard.  She dances and rages, lives with her eyes open and boldly walks her own path.  Bojana is not just a rebel, she is the rebellion.

I feel incredibly lucky to know Bojana.  She teaches me something with every word she writes.  She also loves poetry.  She knows it is essential, an elixir, and she is more versed in the world of poetry that anyone else I know.  She breathes vitality into the art of poetry and passionately appreciates how spectacular and beautiful it can be.  From the moment I started reading her work and her reactions to my own and others work, she has been my Guru.  She has taught me how to see poetry in new ways and shared in my passion for the art form.  Bojana was and is an avid reader of poetry, but then she started writing it.  It was a glorious explosion!!!!

Bojana’s poetry began with a revolution, an uprising that comes from a heart full of passion and a voice that needs to be heard.    In her poems, she gives you everything; her bones and her rage, her blood,  her vulnerability and an honesty so raw, it goes beneath your skin.  It is poetry that comes at you in rapid fire and doesn’t allow you to look away.  It steals your breath and gives you new eyes.

Bojana has been contributing passionately to National Poetry Month, introducing us to some incredible poets, and thankfully, sharing some of her own poetry.  The most recently shared is Dinner for Three, an inventive, provocative and absolutely brilliant poem, in a voice that is unique, filled with fire, and is perfectly, totally and beautifully, Bojana.

DINNER FOR THREE

best friends dining breakfast leftovers
British black pudding
American baked beans, bacon and fried eggs from
countryside farms
dipping French toast into the yolk
food gets stuck in the back of their throats
a tedious repetition of ménage à trois

spinning the globe with their mouths full of
half-chewed food and cursing
dangerous countries glaring at them
a question rising like a tidal wave
where to eat out (this time)
who to fuck afterwards
somewhere far off, someone exotic
yes, we like exotic
checking out the list of the top global threats
up next
S…S…S…Serbia, no, been there
S…S…Siberia…nope, S… Syria, why the hell not
we’re mad enough

mad about the super modern research center in Damascus
and well-equipped storage facilities west of Homs
researching and storing something
an offensive to retaliate against
the suspected mass production of fog and
begin a sustained effort to make
them stop using everything banned, breathing including

today’s targets are pita bread
sprinkled with sesame seeds, spicy
chickpea salad, garlic
and lemon hummus, falafels
with fresh coriander leaves
kebab served with Aleppo pepper and
cookies filled with dates and pistachios
Big Daddy makes it abundantly clear all must go
we eat first, and discuss later

dinner goes like a bomb
can’t think on a full stomach
the world is looking at the satellite images of before and after
something turned into nothing
who wants to fuck with us now