Month: January 2026
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In the dressiest of minefieldsin the conundrum of footwear.In the looped youth obsession with blockletters on bracelets in the hermit’sheart. In the foreground of a Cadillacin the background of a pomegranate.Wrap me in foil, put me in the Airfryer,wheel me out of the dereliction, the hospital,the fishtank. I like to…
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Alert! I have insight from a fruit producer That maybe the secret Is to take a normal thing And slightly permute it My friend the goblin Insists on this breathing Technique made by marines for Calm sleep when coming Down with an unrelated Disease of various Italian Blotches plotted eastwards…
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I let the rain touch me last night.It felt like burying my father.The rain that fell like rusty keys.It felt like burying my father,the rain last night I let touch me.The rain that fell like dead mosquitoeswas the rain that I, last night, let touch me–which felt like burying my…
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Would you believe them if they said what a sun was what gasoline or a turtle asleep in the childhood’s weedsWould you believe it if what they said was muddy or a price gouge emulsion & the violent cup kept there Would you believe it if they said what morning is what calendars or how to find out the…
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People gather up people, and afterMarvel at the act, the act soon fadingBut remembered (itself an act–fading)Nevertheless, it’s also true that wordsGather up words, and strain to stay gatheredThat straining becoming monumentalUntil the base buckles, collapsing allNevertheless, the broken artifactsThe remainders of efforts big and smallSpark curiosity and desirePrompting a…
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— Originally published by Keith LLC — Jared Daniel Fagen is the author of The Animal of Existence (Black Square Editions, 2022).
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one thing you just have to somehow learnone thing you just got to want to sometime knowdepressed carpets suave wood walls bad musicon the intercom one last thing to remember you saidone last thing to die forjust that one thing and nothing much to go afterwardsto get us both past…
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four for Antonio Eligio Fernández (Tonel) and Debora Vanessa Kam the night that is seen,has nothing whatever to do with the nightJaime Sáenz * star badly wounded from just one glancewhirling irisnumbers inside out recycle bluethe postmodern nightwith tin entrails a mess of wiringi see through my woundsclosing opening like ciphersthe whole star sees…
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Robert Lowell had to jack off six times a day just to feel normal. The AC clicks on like an intruder. Bananas objectify the past. Each morning I invent an oblique idealism and then occupy myself with the construction of the temple. I’m not afraid to catch a glimpse of…
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I like red cars especially on a hot dayBorn to dryWhat was carpet promising, at that time?The nineties at that time ACIDIFIED UNITARDTHREE QUARTER YEAREARLY-BUDDING GENEROUS POISONOUS DOGWOODWoman WashroomWell-Adjusted FruitWalking down stairs into the breast of agreat hillRising covered in grass without sharpnessCarping about it, no tree line coverlineates its…
Poetry Nightly 