The international literary magazine publishing poetry, fiction, philosophy, and art. We are writers bound in exile. Exile is breaking away from the fire, from the warm glow of the circle and creating your own narrative alone in that faceless cold. It’s about embracing the darkness and joining the night, becoming intimate with fear—seducing fear—wearing out fear. Exile is howling at the moon’s numi
nous question mark. Exile is the boldest of thirsts. It’s about overriding boundaries both external and internal. We are all exiles from a past, from innocence and from a home. So embrace your chronological banishment. Exile is the collective terrain of the artist, the visionary, the buffalo, the wildcat, the radical and the broken. Exile shoots pigeons with an AK-47 for kicks and feeds them to the lost dogs at its heel beside its shadow called death. Heroic madmen haunt the far reaches of its topography, rapaciously consuming the terrain. Exile is coming for you. Exile is rebellion against platitudes, smashing one’s television with a crowbar. Exile is both hacker and Luddite. Exile is rage against all constraints, the abhorrence of safety. Exile is here. Put the fire to your back or put yourself into the fire—whatever breaks the cycle—and join us. Here you’ll find a different kind of heat, a dark heat, the entropic freedom of a new kind of glowing. So pull up a chair, get in, hop on, drop out and get lost. We’ve been waiting for you
collectiveexile.com
