Reading: River by Sharon Black
In the depths of the Internet I found a poetry competition called "Poetry on the lake" that published last year's winning poems. I am impressed enough to read one here. River To enter naked is to feel no shock, no swift laceration – more a swallowing of the self, a softening of edges by metallic tang ...
Nostalvember
Today I found this: Growl Now that I am lowered into my trench language I become an invocation. I am muscles and tendons, a pressurized blood machine, slowly releasing what was stored between the apostrophes, like a captured animal. I am a cormorant of the apocalypse, a confessing nihilist. Opinions grow on me like frozen ...
Reading: Paradoxes and Oxymorons by John Ashbery
John Ashbery (1927-2017) was, to many, one of the greatest modern American poets. Famous New York School poet. Pulitzer Prize. Look him up! I read a gentle poem called Paradoxes and Oxymorons: This poem is concerned with language on a very plain level. Look at it talking to you. You look out a window Or ...
Reading: Beauty by Tony Hoagland
Saddened by the death of Tony Hoagland (1953 - 2018), the sharp and witty American poet, I read one of his poems today. Beauty When the medication she was taking caused tiny vessels in her face to break, leaving faint but permanent blue stitches in her cheeks, my sister said she knew she would never ...
Beauty Flarf
Is Double Cleansing Really Necessary? Norwegian-born supermodel Frida Aasen has a special glow to her skin. I think we can all agree that the first jet lag mask from Summer Friday’s was not disappointing. We’re exposed to hundreds of thousands of bacteria every single day. Most of these 24 makeup mavens are bilingual. Facial hair ...
"The secret courtesy that courses like ichor Through the old form of the rude, full-scale joke, Impossible to tell in writing." - Robert Pinsky, Impossible to Tell
Père et fils
Quel père: Quelle loi. L’infini lui. Et moi: Le petit lui. Trop petit.
Reading: Where The Sidewalk Ends by Shel Silverstein
Shel Siverstein (1930-1999) was an American painter, poet and songwriter. I read a sweet little poem about the end of the line. Where the sidewalk ends There is a place where the sidewalk ends and before the street begins, and there the grass grows soft and white, and there the sun burns crimson bright, and ...
Observation
What i am is also: world The world that was repelling me Or so i felt The world in which i had no say Not even about moving some of her smallest parts I feel embarrassed. So trivial my thoughts So puny my process. My time. I watch an ant that i don’t smash Walking ...