Art
Poetry Toys
Sparrow
Yes,
there
are
bobble-
head
dolls
of
Poe,
but
where
are the
action
figures
of
Auden?
Bob Ross, oil on canvas, 24" x 30", 2014 by Samoa Moriki
--Sparrow
Sensitive Skin 12 av...
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Poem
Sing This One Back to Me
Bob Holman
Honeybee honeybee deep in the honeytree
Do not tell me to suck dry the tips of whip grass
Swan sway swan sway Ganges flows all day
Would you send me off then to the blasting seas?
Tale singer nightingale crooner carousin...
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Art
The Doctor, Part 97
Sean Flaherty
The way my fingers fit
beginning at the sternum,
moving along
the rib bones,
each time I see
the Doctor,
each time I leave her office
it seems
easier
to say
“I am dying.”
Photograph by Jeff Spirer
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Poem
What Friends Say
Pete Simonelli
Jason moved across the floor on his hands and knees,
I see him this way constantly, in that scooting motion,
making his way to the records lined against the other wall.
Dawn is lighting up outside. He says,
“You have...
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Poem
8th Street Station (Yin-Yang)
Ron Kolm
I met you
At the Grey Gallery
Across from Washington Square Park.
We were going to the opening
Of The Left Front: Radical
Art in the “Red Decade.”
We ate all the peanuts
And most of the chips
That were set out...
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Art
In General
Michael Randall
My friends tend to laugh when I bare my soul
and slowly nod when I tell a joke
These things occur to me only when I’m high
and might have no truth whatsoever
I’m most honest when purely drunk
yet somehow pure be...
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Poem
Our Heavy Metal Life
Jose Padua
Sometimes I like to imagine that my family
and I are a heavy metal band,
playing gigs in the southern states,
riding in a big tour bus that has skulls
painted on the side,
and a big decal of the grim reaper
wielding hi...
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Poem
Oakland
Marc Olmsted
Ocean fog thick in the avenue night
white Christmas lights in October
Shamrock Arms Bar
glowing green & red
through clear quartz-glass block front
the Dead Sailor Girls will play tomorrow
salt taste in air
wher...
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Art
It Is Not Here on Earth What I Am Seeking
Jack Micheline
I don’t know what I am seeking
In the cool night
rivers and birds
a sensuous lip
a rainbow of dreams
past waterfalls
the ruins of cities appear and fade in front of me
awkward man
he dresses and clowns
seeking lov...
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Poem
justin hott at the airport
Emily XYZ
Justin Hott was a retail analyst for Bear Stearns I met at LaGuardia airport one night
heading back to Detroit in December 2007, shortly before his company imploded.
What is the basis of greed / wanting to be free of ...
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Poem
Grass
J. D. King
(i love the scent
of fresh cut grass)
the mower is black
mostly
with bright orange
parts
illustration by JD King
no engine
to cut is to hear
the whir
of the reel
and to smell fresh cut
gra...
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Poem
(10.1.13 will never come again.)
Bonny Finberg
Take the gas mask off. Take a bath.
Take the cake. Take the China exit.
Hell is out there too,
Other people’s concern,
Gods’ voices, at it like grownups
In the front seat.
Photograph from the Wall Str...
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Art
Owls
John S. Hall
by This Fuckin' Guy (as told to John S. Hall)
Owls don’t seem so fucking wise to me.
They look like dicks, usually,
With their chests all puffed out and shit,
Like they’re saying
“Fuck me? No--fuck you!”
But ...
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Comics
William S. Burroughs, Nancy Comics and the Cut-Up Method
Bernard Meisler
Nancy, the iconic series of graphic tone poems by the legendary Ernie Bushmiller, achieved landmark status not for its dada-esque art, its stark depiction of a near-barren (yet strangely psychedelic) landscape populated by p...
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Art
The Open Solitudes of a Plural Self: Joseph O’Neal on Painting
Erik Noonan
Quite apart from the circumstantial affiliations that normally obtain among contemporaries, and quite apart from the facile optical resemblances that one can discern among artworks across distances in time, looking at a pain...
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