Notes “I know too much has been made of origins” is Dionne Brand’s “Too much has been made of origins” in A Map to the Door of No Return: Notes to Belonging (Canada: Vintage Books, 2002). When writing “as … Continue reading “Sleeping with the Window Open”
we go on walks now along the shore of Lake Pontchartrain in March we pass each other little hand-drawn hearts held together by a paperclip My ribcage hurts from a fracture glass raining sideways creating artificial pathways to pathogenic selves … Continue reading “Quarantine Sonnet I, 2020”
I was going to, was going to, do it, that is, by which I mean, stay in bed, like I was supposed to, or at least, for the most part, so-called should have, as in, for my health, for the … Continue reading “from Active Reception“
Cow Lonely Are You? On the internet of wildflowers a white flower is not what I see blue furling dress petal a flower is part dress part animal part vegetable part face an internet a lighted shape of light on … Continue reading “Four Poems”
North Bay I can’t be near you today When I’m writing I need A universe of space. It’s real When I see among all The boys’ fluttering asses Peeling into the ocean’s White crashing surge. Three Of them are so … Continue reading “Four Poems”
When director Richard Williams set out to make Who Framed Roger Rabbit? in 1988, no one had really attempted anything like it before. Although, of course, people had. If you’re anything like me, for example, you remember the several extraneous … Continue reading “Eyelines”
Follow Me trauma’d palm trees listening with the crawl space rat’s path toward ashes sniffing the home depot stones & methane drains to contain our watery sex & shit from flooding vice against the vined wire bordering where our pending … Continue reading “Three Poems”
Anthropocene The end of the world is so basic. Oh hey there’s Eugene. Hey Eugene! Recently she’s obsessed with death, she says. One death she studies is in manuscript template: Crowbar belle lettrist in a suite of marjoram. I’m sorry … Continue reading “Three Poems”
Pindar carving horses out of instituted soap “Storm-swift” horses clocking rhomboid contour into the afterworld— song’s demi-glaze encasing moneyed sky, custard blush. Heracles made pillars being tubes that siphoned cash all the way into the … Continue reading “Nemean 1 the Starrrrrrs are out”
today was the day we were going to make it all the way over to there before we knew it— “they should’ve done it differently” “it was never there in the first place” … Continue reading “Poem”
1. Is the rectum a shopping mall: where the old grave was overhauled and gentrified from the bottomless pit of time & the boundless boundaries of pleasures into the automated bright lights at the parking lots eating alive your Amex … Continue reading “Is the Rectum a Shopping Mall?”
Nothing about Tomorrow How will it be different in the future? It probably won’t. Is there a future? There are the limits of the body: age / illness / something else not said out loud. For example, yesterday I couldn’t … Continue reading “Four Poems”
Anxiety is its own prolonged unreckoning this visionary script moves like an old hand shaking wild playtime kissed into the layers of muscle at home base no less than being still, we press on into the night earnest garbage … Continue reading “Meals”
Note: All drawings and charts are sampled from Google Patents.
This spring, before the world was turned upside down as result of the global health emergency, Audre Lorde’s memory was to be inscribed onto the cityscape of Berlin. A citizens’ initiative had successfully called for the renaming of a street … Continue reading “Poetry as a Way of Living: An Interview with Mayra A. Rodríguez Castro”
