poetry
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David Remnick
Referential in a way John Ashbery could never be — I’ve yet to read John Ashbery. I’m at the ironbark dreaming, Except I’m not; I’m ironstone. The world will not let me Say what I mean; or I Come across Weak, watered down And cheap. I’m afraid to pay For what I deserve; “Alright. Honey,…
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Corruptions in Nature
“I know where you’re taking me” chit! the tufted headboard sneers in ice-colored silence chit! chit! beside a self-possessed brown woman with neither a name nor eyebrows chit! chit! chit! and six-figured earrings; sniffling mongrel inside the leica chit! slurps wild gooseberries and soaks his chalky bastard skin in champagne; chit!…
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L’âge de la Faim pour Soi-Même
American Sentence, No. 5 Truth avenges recreation, the snail criticizes its jet shell.
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“be frank (if you can’t be frank, be john and kenneth).”
From “The Last Avant-Garde” by David Lehman: [Frank] O’Hara’s ironically self-deprecating tone was much imitated. “I am the least difficult of men. All I want is boundless love,” he wrote. He kiddingly called his own poems “the by-product of exhibitionism” and wrote constantly about his daily life. It was O’Hara who initiated the policy of…
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Jill Soloway
mechanical arm lowers raises capable wavy red hair pink skin dry brown desert crunch so what? sliced blue cow the transforming grill blanket warm skin so what if you’re wrong? now you want to make art with cacti shriveling in the sunset? that’s the worst thing you could have said what do you do with a want who’s…
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Kino Sadamaru (1760-1841)
Though this body, I know, is a thing of no substance, must it fade, alas, so swiftly, like a soundless fart? Source: Sato, Hiroaki, and Burton Watson. From the Country of Eight Islands: An Anthology of Japanese Poetry. New York: Columbia University Press, 1987. Print.
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Hezutsu Tōsaku (1726-1789)
Affluence—define it as: pickled greens, rice for supper, nice wine, one bottle, modest but never empty Source: Sato, Hiroaki, and Burton Watson. From the Country of Eight Islands: An Anthology of Japanese Poetry. New York: Columbia University Press, 1987. Print.
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Personal Poem
i meant to say something about light i raze light not your light and not artificial light what of the artificial then? an ungainly freudian monolith gargantuan simple fleshy constructed of shit found in the tv street about light input output welding welded expository writing damaged categoricals empathy but there’s always a corollary-but with men…
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Three Short Poems
One Nearly noon — Rain falling out of the sky Planes and birds horizontal, then not. Two Not quite summer — River along an aluminum gutter Where is the house sparrow? Three Grey day — Courtyard blanketed with teeth Love slips down one’s throat.
wikipoem.org 