You become a visage where the mirror fades out and you
More ardent than our voices in this trace of time
Become the voice of the hunter hearing you.
—Edouard Glissant, trans. Mary Ann Caws
I sing as if I’m eating what I’m singing from a knife.
- Graham Foust
My chapbook, Premonitions, is here!
I had a fantastic time working with Scott Sweeney at Grey Book Press on this little manuscript—a group of poems I truly love, and that I hope you can truly love, too. Scott had some really nice things to say about this chapbook, and it will only cost you $6, which is super reasonable. Small presses are the best!
To order one, go here & scroll down until you see the link for Premonitions (the last entry on the Titles page, as it’s the most recent).
Love you, Tumblr.
Let me be as streamlined as my knife when I say this.Robyn Schiff (“Silverware by J.A. Henckels,” from the great great bk Revolver)
Holiest are those who eat alone.Cathy Hong Park
Do not hurt them, do not push them, insult them,
do not even stare at them, leave
them to eat alone, in peace.
The piano humsmichael s. harper, effendi (for mccoy tyner). (via black-poetry)
again the clear
story of our coming,
our tongues gone,
herds the quiet
musings of ten million
years blackening the earth
with blood and our moon women,
children we loved,
the jungle swept up
in our rhapsodic song
banana leaves and
the incessant beating
of our tom-tom hearts
We have sung a long time here
with the cross and the cotton field.
Those white faces turned
away from their mythical
beginnings are no art
but that of violence—
the kiss of death.
Somewhere on the inside
of those faces
are the real muscles
of the world;
the ones strengthened
in experience and pain,
the ones wished for in one’s lover
or the mirror
near the eyes
that record this lost, dogged data
and is pure, new, even lovely
and is you.
I hear that everybody loves the soundAnthony Opal
of a train in the distance: sing, sang, sung.
A pain forms at the base of the skull
and then moves to the other side of my mind.
Farrah Field, (from ADD THIS TO YOUR COVER LETTER, AMY, in fou magazine)
part of the terror was finding the edges weren’t therebpNichol (via jacobwren)
Yea, a sword shall pierce through thy own soul also.Luke 2:35 (via savage-america)
Throw away the light, the definitions, and say what you see in the dark.Wallace Stevens (via kdecember)