On Linkedin, I see you soldiered some again, / and I imagine you running in the Iraq desert dusk. / When we were young, you sent a tiny, Korean flower / from your base, pressed between two slips of paper you left blank...
"... I got to the end, and I thought, the kid did it. It’s very witty.”
YES. Home. Fucking. Run.
“But,” Levine said, “it’s not a poem.”
Wait — what?
"To Disturb Profoundly the Senses" is a deconstructed appropriation of material from the so-called "Torture Memos" penned by the Bush Six at the Office of Legal Counsel
Definitely, [the one thing that can save America] is not a thing that can be found and grasped or a message to be sent and read. It is more of a process that we can enjoy in all its inconclusiveness."
There was a young man from the Bronx,— / Loved drawing and redrawing ankhs
I should have begun with that warning sound, / I should have begun when the sun crossed the town of Houla, / Syria, brushing the bodies of the massacred children. They look / like carefully wrapped cocoons. // Here, time slips down / the side of a building as if it were only a shadow.
Join us for an evening of literature at the Anglo-American University Library (Letenská 118/1, Prague 1) on July 11 at 7:30 PM, as B O D Y celebrates its wildly successful first year of existence.
Rock on / London. Rock on Chicago. The kaleidoscope of daybreak shatters smooth across horizon. Be glad / Lil' B did this for you. He is a Human Sacrafice.
Clapping comes at the end but it is not because / We were happy about what we just heard...