You, from inside your
publishing house of
unearned income,
A Farewell to Love Poems
Tenderness has no place here. / The long lineage / of gentle touch severed / by jagged images of the instant.
Read MoreBehold No More the Chalked Calves of the Hunter
the whip crack from the snout of the gun / steel elephant blued / to a deep, desperate negative / stark against the snow
Read MoreWer Don't Need Much
as we wipe our tears on stone altars
Read MoreCrown
beware how delicately you wear / this crown of oblivion.
Read MoreI Wish I Was a Rich F*G
Working in that warehouse / Scanning Boxes by the rate / In Bezo’s dusty ass house. / I wish I was a rich f*g.
Read MoreI Gather
it’s too quiet, / too dead, / too ripped apart by sirens, / too veiled by the rot of concrete
Read MoreWhat if You Had Taken the Day Off?
What if you had taken a day off? / Read books in backyard jungles? / Enjoyed your coffee before it got cold?
Read MoreLast Night on Earth
we’ve imagined more / than this last night on earth / bent over grinding machines
Read MoreAbstract Art
you are the art / that hangs by strands
Read MoreBitter
you are the tree / that I nailed myself to
Read MoreWithdrawal
withdrawal…
the worst is the parasitic organism
organism of the gut dying gunfire organism
the hallucinatory organism of railway seasons
hypnotic golden morality organism the kind
that justify them worthless carnival shootings
of jazz and tejano toned people; far away omitted poor;
momentary people...
a flu of noise bullets picking at the silence
death from spiral barrelled throats
weak cities black dimes accustomed to accumulated crisis
country horses force submission
fear not the gallery
be as empty as the dead exist
never count again years of defeat
gnaw the backstage rats grown fat with nervous words
seize the jealous ankles and mechanical muscles
of capital
the old god
the dead god
all that’s left is roses
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Mimetic Society and its Consequences
The architecture of possibility always-already compromised
The unconscious has been gentrified
Meme shocked and future lost
Mommy milkers on the final boss
A Most Deserved Anxiety: Four Poems by Joe Stapleton
A most deserved anxiety
The great pig of the North
Reeking, blood dripping from its snout
Glances warily about
For it heard the scream
Exit Interview
You needed me more than I needed you.
I retired Friday of Labor Day Weekend,
eight months after I told the boss off
for the first time, four days in a row,
my product manager told him to sit down.
I Am an Embryo
A collection of cells
and half-formed tissue.
I have no thoughts,
no will,
no urge to change the world.
Black Dime
REMEMBER WHEN you stung like a bee, leaving your ink all over the kitchen floor and the orchids in the kitchen window never seemed to notice how drab the sun had become over the years? It makes no sense. All languages die in the gap. So, don’t speak. There’s no reason to give voice to our discontents. We are driving and the bridge is a snake crossing the snaking water ways. I became possessed with your hand on the back of my neck. I know you by the smell of lavender and tea. Don’t blink. Never blink again. We have all the time there ever was.
Read MoreDisintegration: Three Poems by Leslie Lea
flashing neon signs:
DRIVE-UP EUTHANASIA
CREDIT CARD ONLY
OPEN 24 HOURS
past-life recall:
centipede exoskeletons
trace dark lines
of rigor mortis
150,000,000
In these United States
This Union
This US
Trammeled & trampled
& put aside
For later we will
For our country we will
For our cities
We will stan & star & stand & fight
Dead Worker
I was a worker or so it’s said
a worker that took too much
too many breaks
too many handouts
too many quiet moments alone in the shop bathroom