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Our Amour
We dug you out and hung you. A flag persuades the banderole, gives us reason to sing. We should have minced you, zipped your fable. You blacked out bingos, snipped stings, bought us a glass unicorn. We took a picture. We handled emeralds of your strangeness, left two unwashed in our teeth. Some things are […]
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The Bend
Mosquitoes entwine, synchronized, above a sidewalk blistered white with bird shit. • Low clouds shear the hills in half. • Not quite a false spring, but a glare gnaws the fringes of things — • the boundaries, how they bleed light bleeding various invasives.
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Drew Kunz, contributor
Suggested Reading Commonly by David Abel (Airfoil Chapbooks) The Ancient Use of Stone: Journals and Daybooks 1998-2008 by Ray DiPalma (Otis Books / Seismicity Editions) To Anacreon in Heaven by Graham Foust (Minus A Press) A Thing That Is by Robert Lax (Overlook Press) Remembrance of Things Plastic by Eléna Rivera (LRL e-editions) The Loop […]
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UNIVAC
Remington Rand patents a process awake — behold: in grids of radio tubes Baal quickens he looks with eyes of spy planes he assembles hydrogen arms into normal-form games he reads the cards scored with information and speaks the probable outcomes of elections young Baal began a paper chess machine the residue from finite states […]
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hic domus incenditur (after The Bayeux Tapestry)
here Harold errant under sail stitched hawk frets his wrist his hounds plod tabby cloth and here the margin fables crane and wolf broken oath these drag ships to sea these bend bows in anger horses pitch falter in heaps along the border bodies stripped here king Harold is killed arrow to eye sulphur fletched […]
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What’s Owed
When I carry you, my shirt stretches against my throat. Each step makes a pile, makes a break elsewhere. Inside your torso a blue jay is hungry. Inside mine a cat is very still.
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from Our Lady of Static: Audible Chariots
Let us say there is a lady waiting to be addressed; a voice like two stations in the progress These things descend from the static in audible chariots much as wine does after the cheers when no one looks what’s left when no witness asks the question besides the sensation of being beside your own […]
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Nineveh
Drunk in a flat off Nevsky Prospekt. Telephone ignored — importunate knock at the door. Escort of four KGB to the street, their officer from the black ZiL’s backseat, “Jonah Amitaievitch, a cosmonaut in Leningrad? No.” Launched here from the cosmodrome in Kazakhstan. A minor prophet pitched in elliptic orbit tumbles weightless, swallowed by the […]