Month: mei 2018

Clickbait: A thought about Jordan Peterson
Recently, I fell for the hype and listened to some interviews with the Canadian professor of psychology Jordan Peterson. I don't find him controversial and his appeal to a healthy debate bypassing the left-right dichotomy sounds healthy. In the videos I watched, he often stressed scientific and statistical rigor, and I like that. Jordan likes ...
Face
The face of the man who knows he won't be tortured even when his bombs start to go off. His human rights are acute, unlike the human rights of his victims. His smiling face is the face of our own humanity staring back at us.
Oh Queen of Macedonia
Oh Queen of Macedonia we are the symptoms of a molecular joke, so will you dance me the mad dance again with the rage in your flaming hair, the dance you danced that night in the heartened dark behind the market? Will you trace the wild measures until they glow stiff, trapped in the teem ...
Over het falen
Het is een drogredenering: omdat je weet dat iedere impuls tot vitaliteit uiteindelijk zal falen omdat het leven eindigt in het graf, het falen zelf verheffen tot hoogste principe. Nochtans is het voor perfectionisten een logische operatie, omdat zij een eeuwigheidswaarde hechten aan de geldigheid van hun doen en laten. Zij falen in hun studie, ...
Canned food doesn’t fly
That day the rooster misses the sunrise a strangeness sits on the world White birds are counting each other's autographs because the horizon smells of burnt rubber A well-kempt general does the narration: next week they will pull in the moon I nod sullenly on my perch, his eyes are gray like ash.
Survivors say:
Survivors say: The bones of those who did not want strong enough are the foundation of our level playing field. Yet survivors are not reckless. There are only survivors. Ours is a lineage of survivors.
Convenient Store
Convenient Store This one here is a microwave world, we are sheltering our love from love. I sit down in a convenient store. I drink a cup of coffee. I look at the plastic bottles with pink lids standing on the shelves like proud flamingos. They are indestructible promises of freedom, their feet ringed with ...
Facebook Psycho
I friended you, you didn’t friend me back, which left me feeling powerless indeed: despite my wounded longing to attack, the software wouldn’t mark you "enemied.” And so, of course, I had to move offline to properly avenge your cyber-slap— with help from this devoted blade of mine. There’s nothing like an old-school killer app. - Melissa Balmain
Reading: Of Darker Ceremonies by Phillip B. Williams
Phillip B. Williams (b. 1986) is the youngest poet I have read here so far, seven years younger than myself. He is from Chicago and is currently teaching at Bennington college. I read something I found that was inspired by hip hop: After “E. 1999 Eternal” by Bone Thugs-n-Harmony Dear god of armed robberies and ...