The proposal came: noisome ideology of cities plopped down in cities. How cool, let me lay here in the sun until my dream’s done feeling mellow and the hills are on fire, focus grouped epilation crawling toddler-like AC-chilled purgatory a … Continue reading “from Thanksgiving“
Allegory of Information Quality I’m responsible for potatoes. Huge quantities of potatoes are being harvested and brought to storage facilities by enslaved people. The soundtrack is ethnomusically informed jazz. I’m supposed to be counting the eyes on the potatoes, but … Continue reading “Alongside the Marketing”
Dear Kay— A letter in seven arguments. 1. On Lies In another poem a man compares me to pussy, and then it happens again. Rosario says straight men don’t even like pussy, an attack so devastating I took it vicariously. … Continue reading “You Say Wife”
In 1964, incarcerated men in a segregated Texas state prison gathered before an ethnographer’s field recorder and sang work songs, toasted, and told tales known intimately to them. Bruce Jackson, a Junior Fellow at Harvard, listened and recorded the various … Continue reading “Pneumatic Memory: Listening to Listening in The B-Side: “Negro Folklore from Texas State Prisons,” a Record Album Interpretation“
this dude next to me has been listening to clips of a cover of “Work” by Rihanna over and over for like 15 minutes. already I hate him. it sort of looks like he’s listening to it on a Zune. … Continue reading “work work work”
With Stones In Our Hands: Writings on Muslims, Racism, and Empire, edited by Sohail Daulatzai and Junaid Rana, is an ambitious collection of essays that draws important connections between the perceptions of Islam in the twenty-first century and the enduring … Continue reading “Sohail Daulatzai and Junaid Rana’s With Stones In Our Hands: Writings on Muslims, Racism, and Empire“
Under Cover Extolling the virtues of theft Meaning makes less in a week than Your masterpiece is for smashing Porcelain pink panther Punching a canvas til it’s money We listened to ArtPop and dream what could’ve been Genderqueer porn suggesting … Continue reading “Three Poems”
1. Because of the world they live in, because of the ways they productively and destructively carry that world inside them They told me how God was not impersonal but knew me by name, knew how many hairs were on … Continue reading “One Admirer Has Said”
I think a lot about Kenny “Sky” Walker who rocked the cradle in the 1989 dunk contest it fizzled without much meaning but it mattered to me in 2017 I got dumped in a swamp I think I wasn’t what … Continue reading “The Capricorn Moon Hits Home”
For a couple of years, I was the president of a fan club on a proto-internet online service, called Club Cruehead, a board for devotees of the dinglewood hard rock band MÖTLEY CRÜE. The service, Prodigy, limited users to thirty … Continue reading “From The Tragicall History“
Now you’re here too in the apocalypse your ancestors made. –Natalie Diaz It’s not fucked up to want to feel safe. We were drawn together by that desire. In Providence, in Oakland, in Charlottesville. Circumstances make it feel so impossible, … Continue reading “A Western”
For a long time, similarity was out of fashion. Difference was in and likeness was out; comparisons were odious. To see or assert likeness, the thinking went, was tantamount to denying irrefutable factual differences, often ones related to identity and … Continue reading “Jonathan Flatley’s Like Andy Warhol“
The frenzied pace of the news cycle in the age of Trump has a magnetic pull that makes it hard to take a step back and think strategically about the recent history of popular anti-capitalist and anti-racist struggles that have … Continue reading “Against Racial Capitalism, from Occupy to the Present”
I wanted to show you something that would give you pleasure the kind of pleasure I sometimes feel listening to Joanna Brouk or standing in the middle of a gallery in the Met not focusing on a particular art work … Continue reading “from a feeling called heaven“
A house. There’s a dream of a house, like there always is. The house has blue walls. It’s four years ago. I have a boyfriend. He is the only boy I’ve ever dated that my parents have liked. … Continue reading “from Socialist Realism“
