This is an excerpt of what my eyes have seen: / swamp as a woman, desert as a woman, the mountain / erosion castrated to soft billows…
You know that plot in the backyard, the one that looks like it’s been kissed by Cain and won’t grow, no matter how much nitrogen old Yiayia dumps on it. It’s me. I’m the reason it won’t grow.
Jeannine Hall Gailey
Break into an underground military mountainside / with just two orphans and a shotgun, / / swearing you have the salt that will heal the sick.
Throw a party and Doug would be the first to get sweaty and drunk––but good drunk; the one to make fin eyes and dumb jokes and suck baby lamb chops off her plate. Amy was less festive.
An ability to idealize. Imagine your not-yet-conceived infant blissfully suckling at your breast. Fantasize that your nursing infant will complete you in the way of lovers.
with Meg E. Griffitts
When the body is threatened, I think it’s natural to both enlarge the body in order for it to contain more, to contain every thing and aspect of memory.
God / is a wild animal / half-domesticated by its own creation
The spine is a stem, is “a mountain road I choose not to follow,” is plucked like a violin, is the staff of Moses being lifted by a beak-mouthed boyfriend.
with Stuart Gill
Our personal technologies simply alienate us, separate us, further and further.
You might say this is the first / kind of experiment any of us perform–planting / certain carefully concocted ideas in the minds of our fathers, / to watch his face purple and curl like a rotting eggplant.
with Shannon Perri
I feel there is no hell quite as excruciating as having nothing to do.
Imagine you never escape the town where you grew up. Or say you do get out, but bring with you all the baggage of your youth… so you haven’t really left at all.
below blue line vellum / long finger tapers smooth / knob-knuckled hands
with Meg E. Griffitts
Art is always trying to deal with the soft edges or the blurs around things.
with Andrew Hincapie
I want someone with a high school education to be able to pick up this book and engage with it the same way someone with two PhDs and a penthouse in Manhattan can…
Ed. Shelly Taylor & Abraham Smith
[T]he anthology re-imagines the conventional understanding of the term hick and brings it proudly into a poetic consciousness.