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Issue: Griffel #2

THINGS (BAGAGE)

is the reason— lungs swelled to beasts,   legs to the grave, the joy of nothing happening—I,   strawberries & cream still cold under arm,   flick ashes to eagles whilst waiting for Hassle—   the name we assign our new bus/driver.… Read More “THINGS (BAGAGE)”

TWILIGHT OF BEOWOLF

When               you tell me no,                   you are beautiful when               you show me yes—               the x pinks of                     your pain,                    I part                  your                 home like                  crab,                suck the secrets                    blind like choice                         meat meant               for hoar- smoke coming home in the rain.                                 … Read More “TWILIGHT OF BEOWOLF”

Pandora

Det er sommer og indeni den ligger en anden sommer: en sommer der fortsætter den korte sommer der blev kort fordi noget usommerligt afskar den fra at være sommer, fra at være en årstid, fra overhovedet at være en tid, men nu er det sommer: den anden sommer, den fortsatte bevægelse; en æske åbnes og sekunderne får en chance til.… Read More “Pandora”

Diversion

After a day spent attempting to impress those good-looking girls who were not impressed I would retreat into the company of boys and drink, and on one such night, sitting on a friend’s bed blowing smoke at giant moths driven mad with the light, I gulped down a pint of cognac, and by the fourth or fifth time that I fell off my bike in the dark, I truly believed that I had, at last, grasped the meaning of the word sublimation.

Commute

Early enough to hear the light whispering like a lover to the dawn I cross the street, evading Messalina’s grip, and find the pavement is already sick with pigeons, going at each other over scraps of bread scattered at the feet of Christ (possibly) who looks as though he hasn’t slept since all that Gethsemane business.… Read More “Commute”

Millipede from Mars

After the dinosaurs lay down in their fossil beds and the ice ages shift from Pleistocene to Holocene, some eleven thousand years of weather ago, there walks into my apartment this millipede, no doubt as a result of the wettest month of May on recent record, Lakeland and Venice both reporting.… Read More “Millipede from Mars”

Williams

Williams: Nellie Fitzwater and I were camping in the Gaermantine area near New Brunswick when one morning we were awakened by a bear.… Read More “Williams”

THE LAST HAIKU IN SAXON ENGLISH

[  because you know                 ] [  this is too beautiful               ] [  to try                                        ]

Look Up Curtis!

This strip of Friday night nowhere pulses for our baby blue Saturn CD skipping the third-measure bump, jump, falsetto cracks and we taste it in our jaws riding white and talking that shit like we run the pool hall with one leg like Kirby limping and shucking on smooth southpaw licks, watching VHS tapes from the backs of magazines with Grier and Roundtree and playing like we black cause we don’t know what that means just yet and now the lights are falling in Flatbush and all of us and Brooklyn are paralyzed.… Read More “Look Up Curtis!”

Stacks

“Stacks upon stacks of warm bureaucrats, Counting whatever is brought before them: A universe of vaguely separate Objects in need of sorting.” The poet says out loud, sweating.… Read More “Stacks”