Category: Poetry
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Dead Christ
Holbien fishes bodies from the Rhine // stone or marble forms a slab // he clears green mold, seaweed, the guts // it takes to paint a Chrorpse, // and spreads them out to prompt his work.
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On Mortality
To wrap up this week’s theme of grief, loss, and eulogies, I’m sharing a poem on mortality I wrote one year ago. I woke up in the middle of the night with the worst fever of my life, aching to my bones, certain of death — kind of like my friend’s cold sweat from yesterday’s…
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Blueprint (a CHCC video)
Wrote up a quick poem for a bumper video. This was for College Heights’ videographer, Joseph Lang. Poem below.
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050: La Fin du Monde
Read the world’s ending in a book again today and I laughed not out of disrespect but determination to laugh I’ve determined laughter helps us finish strong. It’s not the first book today printed whose themes feature the end of the world it’s a popular transition from fantasy to science fiction to move from eschatology…
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049: Por Que?
because my highschool taught Español Vaminos! not Latin Via Ovid because of the blood in the water because no one remembers the Alamo, nor cares, nor, perhaps, ever cared because Texas wants to secede — we should let them and because we should take Puerto Rico in their place because of the Three Amigos because…
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048: Birthday Event Horizons
“Micah’s how old? …He can’t be that old.” isn’t a statement about a shift in age, but rather a shift in perspective. For the speaker in question remains the same age: “Theirs” and assumes that others will remain the same age: the age that others maintained in relation to “Theirs.” How ever Like the half-plus-seven…
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047: Things to Bring Tonight
burlap sack. guns (those pistols and the shotgun). stuff for making bruises. chair. shop lamps. crappy rope. a sharp kitchen knife. dry ice… chocolate syrup. a generator. the script. your camera. the director’s chair. oh, and fedoras. Lots of fedoras and overcoats. }{ For newcomers — a note on 50 @ 25: Once upon a…
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045: A New Era
My birthday the end of an era of poetry …again. era: a long and distinct period of history with a particular feature or characteristic Mid 17th cent from late Latin plural of aes as in aer— for “money, counter” AND DON’T YA KNOW wouldn’t ya know it didn’t you see it coming?…
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044: The Lavender, The Milk, and The Turf they Share
Two hemispheres of lavender purple parentheses two currents of clover blooms clockwise cranking, head after tail after head royal field around the base of a bulb globe Dogwood crosssections up, down, right, left, tangledrootedin green below and between buffer of fertility Dogwood smells like the clover’s type clover erect like the Dogwood’s type bent…
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042: On the Righteous and Unrighteous Alike
Three hawks I saw & a crow on a day when the rain drizzled down from the shroud overcast on our hills, wings in spray, wings (brown tops, white bottoms, farmers’s tans) weighed with water or now dripping, dripping inken-black, now flinging ringlets of rain as they dove into blades of the green (also wet)…
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041: Incognito
Don’t want the fame or the fortune, just want to die great. Don’t want to make it rain, Don’t want you to remember my name, just want to meet my fate. Don’t want shelter from poverty, Don’t want to be a celebrity, Don’t want the press to acknowledge me, just want my tale to run…