where is the river :: a poetry experiment

Eva Monhaut :: Two poems J.D. Nelson :: Four poems Paul Ilechko :: Three poems Matthew Freeman :: Five poems rob mclennan :: Three poems

  Four poems for battleaxe 1. This cartography of tissue, bone, was never meant to eclipse landscape. Victorian swagger, allocated;  to tame the gardens, menageries, heathens. Tarzan, swings. If all you see  is someday yours, what have you? A heart-  shaped box. This generosity of garbage, strewn. Abandoned shipping containers. My love outpaced.  2. An era of floaters: Garfield telephones that insist  on dialing ashore. Anthropocene: the human epoch, staggered syntax, centred. This question of lyric amplification.    3. If any dead writer might take you into their confidence. Re-tread. Read. To live in the past  is to infer a lack of risk. Anne Carson: Genre is basically a matter  of occasion. Goodbye, Norma Jean. What might it cost to put this house in order?    4. Blockchain. Lost again.   Four poems for Timber 1. This act of vanishing: felled, in foul swoops. Once part of ...

Katy Lederer :: Five poems J.L Moultrie :: Flowers Only Confess When They're Alone Paul Ilechko :: Two poems Roxanna Bennett :: Four poems rob mclennan :: from the book of smaller

A Confederate General in Charlottesville, Virginia Where does the world end, and people begin? I can’t look at this now. As we shift, so too, our lens. An obelisk of uncommon shape. Why does this matter? We can’t pretend this is all past tense. Privilege: the luxury to ignore. When so many can’t. This isn’t about free speech. They came with clubs, with bats, with raised hands. Symbols imbibed with power. My heart was a weapon. How are you so unafraid. History belongs in a museum. We don’t want your hate. Great Barrington MA Is travel writing truly dead? We drive across the border, beyond which we neither write, nor look. When did the Mahican? When did the English? We are from a future world. The shutters lose their sheen, their black paint. When did the Dutch? Kills, those waterways. The creeks. Amsterdam, or Rome. What shines is the appeal. In the reflection of speech, several voices. When did the wealthy? With the arrival of the railroad. Hence, the day agrees with my step. ...

Produced in a limited edition print run for private distribution, these three chapbooks are now available as downloadable pdfs: series one point one: The Vispo Bible – Romans , Amanda Earl series one point two: WELCOME TO THE LAST EARTH SHOW , Michael Sikkema series one point three: Glossary of Musical Terms , rob mclennan

Sacha Archer :: from Ghost Writing Klara du Plessis :: Three poems R. Keith :: Gedichte, Punkte Ricky Garni :: Three poems rob mclennan :: from the book of smaller

My family’s all in bed Translating: five full years. Perhaps we may wake, we may sleep; invent a new set of words. I can remember this life; a deep breath. A notebook, misplaced. Scratch a line down. Wonder: how can one describe, the making of art? Tell me what you need. Engage newspaper, coffee, the kettle. The eastern face, shines. House: a stitch of black cloth. The impossibility of experiment. Troubleshoot. Based on a true story, incorrectly transcribed. Five minutes of silence. Jennifer Kronovet, translated Each language we wish to release. I drag the letter. Counted. Syntax is important. Not all sentences can be evaluated. Everything depends upon. Autumn in New York; springtime in Berlin. It does not equal. They say beauty contains the root of space. Can you hear me, now? The Chinese chamber, echoes. Leaving voice to silence. Made of words, this passage. Puncture. Soars across great distances. I call you. Leap. A single, bound. Twenty-first century liter...