Category: Uncategorized
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The gums of the windchime curtains the trailer molded kitchen. Amid a blackberry winter we defaulted on the loans. I killed the snake. I dismembered it and mailed it to all my friends and family. I said see what you are worried about. Birds still died on the porch last…
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— From Issue Five of The Sixties (1961) — By Tristan Corbière 👍 Tr. by Donald Hall 👍
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To sit by the vowel And assess its pleats “enough as say, treeeste branchlace is perishaken; The odor is puthastily,; long-1not ” and t ry Of the rain the lurid arms Which taint the fine aisles of the ocean Murmurs of an imminent hour Dollars the action of water…
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THE STATE DOESN’T WANT ME TO FIST YOU BUT WE DO IT ANYWAYTHE STATE DOESN’T WANT ME TO FIST YOU BUT WE DO IT ANYWAYTHE STATE DOESN’T WANT ME TO FIST YOU BUT WE DO IT ANYWAYTHE STATE DOESN’T WANT ME TO FIST YOU BUT WE DO IT ANYWAY …
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What if we are just squares someone drew in the dirt with a stickWhat if what I don’t need is a beer gunAs the minutes tock so closely everAm I thinking of youYour chubby rabbitAnd your chubby rabbit’s boyfriendTalk to me about forcefieldsIn a minute I’ll have to leave somewhereAnd we’ll…
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It would be so intimate to show you my houseNo, it would be just hospitable.They do not know I am beautiful nowGlobe fatter and flakier Winter pea: I am upset I could not be with your child You get new to meYou get new-me to name every lineOn the topmost hill…
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Garland the beamsBlameless provisionsMuster reason swungFingerspun wicket / legsMalt wounds last lapLong hike unfriendedNever disdain your boatmanNo chance taxi gaitSolid by light, a gapIn me. Pipe up long ghostsChum corruption, organdieNot rubbish, cloth bellpullDuff same age picnic, tooBrief arousals all fizzNiche pisshound withoutWarning we shave allBurdens like ill gotten gainsWent…
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— from A-1982–published by Mercury Firs Not sure if you can buy this one yet…. maybe DM Ian? — By Jimin Seo 👍
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I followed the heart attackdown the grazing horse’s neck through topsoil and nematodesthrough worm holes and roots through underground riversthrough schools of blind fish and up like silent lightninginto the man’s useful groin it continued on its pathalong a hawk’s thermal sleep until it found its way downa weak breeze…
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— from the Summer 1951 Issue of ‘origin’ (Issue II?) — By Robert Creeley 👍
Poetry Nightly 