literature
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from Ben Lerner’s “Leaving the Atocha Station”
“Reading poetry, if reading is even the word, was something else entirely. Poetry actively repelled my attention, it was opaque and thingly and refused to absorb me; its articles and conjunctions and prepositions failed to dissolve into a feeling and a speed; you could fall into the spaces between words as you tried to link…
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Stein on France, Progress, History
“The background of tradition of profound conviction that men and women and children do not change, that science is interesting but does not change anything, that democracy is real but that governments unless they tax you too much or get you defeated by the enemy are of no importance.” Gertrude Stein in Paris France
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sense memory no. 1 [revision, 082320121822]
suddenly the sweetness of some fruit i can’t recall memory’s maw models some flowery drupe, not a mango spread across a lisp thin wheat its saccharine spear implacable i heave on repeat, breathe in hopes of dislodging the pneumonic of seeds, split spit and juice — an unmistaken but missing flame [for Matthew Rohrer, 062120121546]
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sense memory no. 1 [revision, 082120121512]
suddenly the sweetness of some fruit i can’t recall memory’s maw models some flowery drupe, a mango spread across a lisp thin wheat the saccharine spear implacable i heave on repeat, breathe in hopes of dislodging the pneumonic of seeds, split and juice — an unmistaken missing flame [for Matthew Rohrer, 062120121546]
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Interrobang — Page 11, Line 11, Part 1
So many lovers loved built up into careful bedside stacks — which to read first, which to repeat “According to what has ended up inside it,” Kim said. What and why, indeed? When the cushions call who can resist? Clever, diabolical, it’s a reaction, always to you, forgive me “I reacted subjectively, assuming they wanted me…
art, bra, charles bernstein, devils, fashion, kim addonizio, lenny bruce, literature, love, poems, poetry, reading, sex -
Breathless and Sweaty Here on the Sidelines
Adam, is this a printing error? Had McSweeney’s beard-wild intern left notes in the galley? A literary rabbit? A muzzle flash? A clue; smoky fingerprints — whose? — left marginal? An entropy? Oh, I see!This affect-italicized ho-hum — pop, pop, pop Playing volleyball with her quote.
wikipoem.org 