Category: Poetry

  • Bad Survivalist: “DON’T CHIDE THE HOOTCH” & other RIP VW erasure/collages by Nance Van Winckel

    Bad Survivalist: “DON’T CHIDE THE HOOTCH” & other RIP VW erasure/collages by Nance Van Winckel

    *Ed.’s Note: click images to view larger sizes. Nance Van Winckel’s ninth poetry collection, The Many Beds of Martha Washington, is just out with the Pacific Northwest Poetry Series/Lynx House Press. She’s also published a book of visual poems with Pleiades Press (2016) and five books of fiction, most recently Ever Yrs, a novel in the form…

  • Connor Fisher: Two Poems for Haunted Passages

    Connor Fisher: Two Poems for Haunted Passages

    An Aphid Complex An aphid complex emerged frombeneath the burning barn. Horses were theprophets of agriculture. I threw a tractor overa phalanx of shells that, in their elation,carved elaborate, infinitesimal initialsinto the desolate arena of sand. My knife is in midair. I am jugglingthe brutal levees of a drowned city. The wellreflects an image of…

  • Two Poems for Haunted Passages by Annah Browning

    Two Poems for Haunted Passages by Annah Browning

    On Reading the Unsolved Mysteries I no longer want to see the world. I want to hold  a bouquet of aliens in my hand like violets and stare into their black eyes. I want to get dizzy  falling in love with the probe. I want to be the compass  that swings and swings, never resting anywhere.  There is no grove I am setting my eyes toward, no monolith I believe. Stones stand under stars because that  is…

  • Haunted Passages Poem: “Tangerine Dream” by Michael Sikkema

    Haunted Passages Poem: “Tangerine Dream” by Michael Sikkema

    Michael Sikkema is a poet. He has a book forthcoming from Trembling Pillow Press, a book forthcoming from Alien Buddha Press, and a chapbook of sound poems and collages fresh out from Low Frequency Press. He enjoys correspondence about owl communication, sound studies, and raising pleasantly feral children at Michael.Sikkema@gmail.com. Image: healthclubnu.nl

  • Two Poems for Flavor Town USA by Avery Gregurich

    Two Poems for Flavor Town USA by Avery Gregurich

    I Keep Guzzling Bug Juice, Thirsty As I Am I can never leave the Casey’s convenience store without myBug Juice. I just gotta have that sport cap thrill. It’s always gotthe Vitamin C I’ll need, and less sugar than apple juice. There’seven a Straw’ Nana flavor to boot! Some like it hot. Others drinkonly Whistl’…

  • Excerpt from SCARLET: Three Glitched Still Lives by Francesco Levato

    Excerpt from SCARLET: Three Glitched Still Lives by Francesco Levato

    *Ed.’s Note: click images to view larger sizes. SCARLET is a digital visual/poetic meditation on the fractured state of psyche induced by extended social isolation under COVID-19 lockdown. The digital/visual poems are created through erasure of the novel The Scarlet Plague collaged with glitched imagery from everyday life in lockdown. The titles of poems in…

  • Side A Video Poem Collaboration by Penn Kemp & Gary Barwin: “The Female Line”

    Side A Video Poem Collaboration by Penn Kemp & Gary Barwin: “The Female Line”

    A note on the media: Gary Barwin created the video poem in collaboration with Canadian poet Penn Kemp. Kemp wrote the text but Barwin set it with music and visuals and they both performed it.  The Female Line Some small part of us is held in our mother’s egg whenshe is in our grandmother’s womb,    …

  • Bad Survivalist Poetry: “where the space ends” by Anthony Santulli

    Bad Survivalist Poetry: “where the space ends” by Anthony Santulli

                even maps know that point of view                   is a lifeless music—that the next sense               to evolve       will only create further desire                            to escape from experience     at intermission, the utterance of terms             we barely notice (these things happen in                         the cracks, their particular hiss)                          …

  • From Vol. 9: “In My Dreams There’s No One in the Maternity Ward,” a poem by Tessa Livingstone

    From Vol. 9: “In My Dreams There’s No One in the Maternity Ward,” a poem by Tessa Livingstone

    I keep having dreams they take her from mewhen I hadn’t finished. I wanted her more. I wander halls in search of nurses. Babies.Their open mouths. Their frantic chantings. Nothing stirs here—only the peahenwho roosts in tall open trees, scratches at leaf litter, preens brown plumage. A listless planet in orbit,gravitating in and out of…