Month: January 2026
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— from Vision Sans Seraphim–published by Beautiful Days Press (Previously excerpted in the Cleveland Review of Books) Buy the book here — Jed Munson is the author of the prose collection Commentary on the Birds (Rescue Press, 2023), as well as five chapbooks of poetry, most recently Vision Sans Seraphim (Beautiful Days Press, 2025). His work…
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Advancements ineternity brought forththe following methodsof production: a) artilleryweapons b) the modernworkweek c) considerateadvancements in miningand d) a strengthenedunderstanding of bonedecomposition. The statebecame its own, longitudinalstar—its ‘significance’preserved within in-printcompendiums labeled“Sacrifice.” We adoredthe accumulativeeffects of merit. Weadored the institutionof marriage and thenew tools coming outof the assembly linehole. We adored themso…
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The coherence of the blood is worse than any violent item. Imagine staring at the portable swan, eyes tight in their dimes, filthy slides of a predatory airport. I am wiping my hands clean on silence. If you can imagine what went through me to talk to you. A master…
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saying hello can be eager and lonelylife is redundant and hard the stick gets passedjoggers get lathered played out knife into the haunch to keep me movingdeeper into the sunset the sentient primeval JAPAN is far away The hair grass seems just about as golden as a train yard in the rain a red ashtray fulllilting…
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I holdopen the horse’s eyeits lids lip slickdirt amulet finger pryforceps openingwider its fissure Irip tunics history’s bluebuckskin I object inmonocular vision holdpierce light tear canthusthe horse’s eye glowsimpassive I formas opener held in itsbeast gloss I fasten hisfascination it pinsme holding for aslong as I canthink — from You’re…
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Bring me one ant even to this helvetical (“she who is only a figure for the richness in the land”) blankness. its sad windows with their frowning arches. Through which a blue hand reaches, blue with blood, and picks up the pen, and writes, as if clumsy, as if trailed…
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Saw a vcr player turned up in the riverThis is how I learned to write my nameAnd every day, what can never be, isAnd everything that’s yet to come, isAnother time gone by times xIt’s all supposed to happen like thisI can write my name in the sandA zillion times…
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becomes your ribbonis your child. I am morelike the wall. My lifemark,I wear your talented ink. Hammered by jack,the vertigo sets in. My fullest slopelies with Jill, Iflash primary. First meeting islast. The opposable,is green —bothhands so ruby. My body asscrimmage,a coloring book. I zip my denim pastmy forehead but the…
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Headed down to Goodro Lumber at 4:27pm unawarethey close at 4:30, just enough timeto grab a bag of salt for the front steps for our office down the road. The man behindthe counter, bald, squat, reading glasseshanging from a string around his neck— Hard to speak when a song or…
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I do not like trains but trains likeme like some people who git bit are told mosquitos like them.Why here I am Lord, why, here am I Lord is the track and a bear’stied to the rails with a person. Then you, with your conductor mind,wonder: If I yank with my might…
Poetry Nightly 