Intricate and Colorful Patterns: In Memory of John White

Waking in the middle of the night, I down a glass of water then plod off to pee, which seems funny enough to laugh about, but I don’t. Recently...
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Siegfried Mortkowitz

I have contemplated my half-toothless grin in the mirror / and compared it, favorably, to a baboon’s butt

Justin Quinn

Now they’re postmodern. They talk about the Cause / purely to get a rise out of the git / who’s Irish and has actually lived through it.

Annie Brechin

Croatia: not as beautiful as your cock.

Justin Quinn

Because the Wounded Child crooned in my ear, / ‘You cunt. You are the fuck-up in all this. / The Man will help you leave. But first come here. / The Woman in the Dress would like a kiss.’

Milan Dezinsky

This moment is only a delay: / tomatoes, / waiting blankly at the executioner’s block, / on the verge of exploding and sourly burning / the impression of morning, scorching the light, / burning the face. / Victorious tomatoes.

Siegfried Mortkowitz

Take your pulse. If it is / above 75, propose marriage. // Sing as loud as you can, / and wait for the echo. / If it is her voice you hear, / build a city where you stand.

Friday Pick: Roque Dalton’s “Tavern”

"Tavern" is a significant long poem that captures the tenor of mid-1960s Prague, and all its attendent political, social, and literary uproars. It does so with an inventive and complex structure that puts Dalton on the edge of the mid-century Spanish-language avant-garde.

Gil Fleischman

Sang the songs by myself in a drab corner / Felt scared and strange being alone / & singing the songs of my past till I heard myself singing

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