poem: dear you

she made an online zine, entitled "arrested development" because no-onewould take her. he playedbass in long strands, summer afternoon, but shecould not taste it in her mouth, she declined the lessons. where is the placefor this writing -- wannabe song lyrics push the glass sky, alive in a magiccult; the crowd thronged they shoutedthe lyrics… Continue reading poem: dear you

poem: considerations, 10/3

if you interrupt me again i will loose(my shit) my composure. iced coffee? southerncalifornia? in the ghost ships i am heat, wallowing throughthe mountains. someday the shore, the sea will catchand make sense of me. or i will, again, rope itinto mythology. poetry that is song lyrics that isancient zine. if you interrupt me again… Continue reading poem: considerations, 10/3

poem: interview with the musician

millennial miasma, she says my best work is my nostalgia. critic who called the intended readership of sally rooneynovels: the generation spending their student loan repaymentpayouts on turmeric lattes; critic who called the gen z scene frictionless: their "scene" is thespotify algorithm. and I find this oddly appealing oddly sadI am here in the call-out!… Continue reading poem: interview with the musician

poem: /lit/’s top 100 greatest books of all time

in her appeal there was a low-hanging, overripe fruit; I am reading a new book and I am already bored. in my realization I am a child: I tellmy lover, men want to be God and women want to be men, the rib infected us. for us, men areGod. in their appeal, a wide high… Continue reading poem: /lit/’s top 100 greatest books of all time

poem: flora/fauna memory

his greens were more blue, the sad sweep of the trees and the pavementrunning to the river; curling around string lights with bleeding paperghosts taped over the bulbs. the brown staleness of becoming yourself, insideyourself and alone, except for the demi-god robots heaving an adolescent gaspthrough the television screen. this is all clunky: to find… Continue reading poem: flora/fauna memory

poem: twenty-four

when asked if there was a God in his filmuniverse -- who would intervene -- Wes Anderson said, yes. the girl atwork who is prettier than me is likely planning to kill me, dissolve me slowly into her perfect hips and secret knowledge of social networks. you laugh butshe would have ignored me in highschool… Continue reading poem: twenty-four

poem: the california poems cnt.

the language of ghouls ate into the sand -- and lo, a townwhich exists for the sprawling military-industrial complex some saythe size of delaware. i would like to work there -- i wantto purchase odd things for the walls, things so that in layingon the couch and looking up i feel uneasy, a coffee shop… Continue reading poem: the california poems cnt.

poem: “The shift in my reality was quite stark,” she says. “There was a lot of emotion.”

if his mother knew he thought the floors were dirtyI would kill myself; far away from the center of the earth I amalways drawn back to New York. there is a "desperate idealism" in the indiemusic of the early 2010s that I would like to trademark, despitethe to-do list I am reading about the "fragmented… Continue reading poem: “The shift in my reality was quite stark,” she says. “There was a lot of emotion.”

poem: no longer can i sense the best end to a poem

loneliness was the through-line, the resurrection, the dioceses -- i ambowled over by it, i let it crouch in my mouth and reconsider: phallic anime hands in the night, little boys raping me! loneliness wasthe sick dark slick of imagining and the curtain-line of red cut (but never, never) down the blue delta of veins… Continue reading poem: no longer can i sense the best end to a poem