Category Archives: Lit Review

can’t describe the thing you do to mehow can i transcribe bee sting?the rings the buzzes of birds beestrees talk to me it’s a shock to me chip off the blockyou see i been lovin you from light-yearsbeen knowing youfor night-yearsscrews tighten on us / sight tearspressure-boil as fascists oilsubmachinegunstragic-to think leisure will foil plotsmagicContinue reading “screws loose”

i was never really like thiscould never really recite thisodes were bitingundelightingi was spiting everything in front of meblack windows green eyeshazel blood invitingalien tears / tracksmeadows where marigolds marinated in mercurium, oh my!i was never really like this /ines of /inenetched!stretched!across

now i know men ain’t supposed to cry big girls neitherbut when you get to be with the onewho swept you off your feet eight months prior and now u gotta pack up and go home after eight days well i think that’s cause for some tearshappy and sad ones green tearshot tearsafter denying myselfContinue reading “wonder boy”

we have been bio-logicallyinclined, i prefer conditionedwe have been conditioned with the bio-logic which hold that life is form is functionis permanently fixed unfuxkwittablebut us we know this bio-logic clockis a lie a myth a making uscrazy and begone! begina new era of loving living& licking

yesterday was the day before today was today, the day before tomorrow was the day you told me you caredthe day after i stopped caringand after thatthere were no more days to count

There are so many roots to the tree of anger that sometimes the branches shatter before they bear. — Read on sites.williams.edu/engl113-f18/marr/who-said-it-was-simple/

your breath the sweet cradle of my nights, your chest rising and falling the metronome that stilled my heart my paranoia melting in your armsi was safe there / i was not always therei came to this place and i was alone even though i was always saying we are never alone, i was aloneContinue reading “metronome #1”

by Maureen N. McLane What a strange, vital, careening book—what a book for now. Yet also, what a fascinating document of the early 20th century. A Poet in New York, “New York in a Poet,” as Lorca himself glossed it: this is clearly one of the great works of transnational modernism, a cracked A… —Continue reading “On Lorca’s Poet in New York | Work in Progress”

the nazi in new yorkwho killed all those Africansat a supermarket in Buffalo?he is afraidafraid of the “great replacement”afraid of the masses the colonized masses outnumbering he says “the white birth rate must change”he says “my blood is European”Africans Black peoplemy people we must prepare for the worstis still to comefor us there was neverContinue reading “the nazi in buffalo”