I question the reach of your eyes in front of the man who shaped no lean sliver of who you are across from me right now looking past me in your wriggled chair and as for an answer you bang your glass hard down at the table almost slam it really splat on the newspaper [...]
Tagged thought shardsThere are icons to shatter here. Does anyone remember when meaning was meaningful? People are not stupid. “We no longer have anything to hide in this integral reality that envelops us.” They are oblivious. I am of two or more minds. You can’t feel up unless you get down. Suicide is a state of mind. [...]
THE SIRENS These are the seductive voices of the night: the Sirens, too, sang that way. It would be doing them an injustice to say they wanted to seduce; they knew they had claws and sterile wombs, and they lamented this aloud. They could not help it if their laments sounded so beautiful. – Franz [...]
BEFORE THE GAME Shut one eye then the other Peek into every corner of yourself See that there are no nails no thieves See that there are cuckoo’s eggs Shut then the other eye Squat and jump Jump jump high high On top of yourself Fall then with all your weight Fall for days on [...]
Tagged poetry, prose poetry, Vasko Popa“Unable as yet to walk, or even to stand up. . . he nevertheless overcomes the obstructions. . . and, fixing his attitude in a slightly leaning-forward position, in order to hold it in his gaze, brings back an instantaneous aspect of the image.” – Jacques Lacan, The Mirror Stage / My baby rolled over [...]
Early morning. Trash day. Haul cart to street. Boxers. Button fly. Neighbor smiles, then eyes grow wide. Noticing then, a new day’s breeze.
Tagged pith... twitsDear Big Jesus, Please don’t bleed tears tomorrow. I’m just helping St Jenny w/the girls. We’re cool. You’re a hero who didn’t get back up. Regards, Some man’s son
Tagged joesmithreallyLucia, my distant love You predict me, as ever. Yes, the woods again were where I found myself, wolves singing their hungry sleep songs, but returned to our home, a half empty shell of what we haven’t built, but abide there on our finest days. Fuel for my fires was depleted in days and another [...]
A piece of a man had broken off in a road. He picked it up and put it in his pocket. As he stooped to pick up another piece he came apart at the waist. His bottom half was still standing. He walked over on his elbows and grabbed the seat of his pants and [...]
Tagged pith... picks, prose poetry, Russell EdsonHell “If you want to understand the social and political history of modern man, study hell.” – Thomas Merton It’s probably like the excitement of your first cigarette, but it lasts forever, that dizzying nausea — the Unknown: with imitation human heads on their buttocks, bats leaping from black books, dragon tails waving, monkey glands [...]
Tagged Peter Johnson, prose poetryApe You haven’t finished your ape, said mother to father, who had monkey hair and blood on his whiskers. I’ve had enough monkey, cried father. You didn’t eat the hands, and I went to all the trouble to make onion rings for its fingers, said mother. I’ll just nibble on its forehead, and then I’ve [...]
Tagged prose poetry, Russell EdsonThe Man Rock A man is a rock in a garden of chairs and waits a longtime to be over. It is easier for a rock in a garden than a man inside his mother. He decided to be a rock when he got outside. A rock asks only what is a rock. A rock [...]
Tagged pith... picks, Russell EdsonThe Absent One This brutal brother but whose word was true, steadfast in the face of sacrifice, diamond and wild boar, ingenious and helpful, held himself in the center of all misunderstandings like a resinous tree in the cold admitting of no alloy. Against the bestiary of lies tormenting him with its goblins and its [...]
The Family Monkey We bought an electric monkey, experimenting rather recklessly with funds carefully gathered since grandfather’s time for the purchase of a steam monkey. We had either, by this time, the choice of an electric or gas monkey. The steam monkey is no longer being made, said the monkey merchant. But the family always [...]
Tagged Russell Edson