Prinzenbad

Set in the charged atmospheres of Kreuzberg, airports, waiting rooms, bedrooms, and prayer spaces, Prinzenbad moves through hunger, desire, surveillance, inheritance, and the everyday violence of being read as 'foreign'. Ozan Zakariya Keskinkılı writes in a shifting, multilingual music where German, Turkish, Arabic, and English collide and braid, refusing the neat borders that states, headlines, and even poems try to enforce.

These poems carry family voices and childhood textures, but they also burn with queer tenderness and defiance. A public swimming pool becomes a site of longing; a passport control becomes a theatre of suspicion; a phone screen becomes both intimacy and distance. Throughout, language is not just medium but battleground, a place to reclaim the body, the name, the right to speak, and the right to be misunderstood on your own terms.

A collection of fierce lyric agility and emotional heat, Prinzenbad insists on life in the margins as a centre of gravity.