Exhaust Fumes and French Fries
I Am Lying
Somewhere in a busy market there is a scramble to escape a sudden fire. There’s no limit to national interests. An IV tube gets stuck to the PICC Line cap. Pliers will loosen the point of insertion. Every word swells and shatters against the one beside it. “Fleet” becomes “purchase” becomes “pet” — remarkable and annoying at the same time. The acquisition of language goes both ways — each has hands around the other’s throat.
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Someone looks at a pay stub and thinks “the price of existence is suffering.” Someone hides a photograph in a book. Someone spills coffee — it pools in their navel. Someone craves judgment. A weak leg buckles. Knot
Ed Skoog’s ‘mister skylight’
This is a review written for Read Write Poem’s Virtual Book Tour. Ed Skoog’s new collection, Mister Skylight, from Copper Canyon Press, is a major achievement.
Skoog’s use of language is disorientating, vivid and surprising, all the things I love about great poetry. In a recent
Take a look at this
Dave Bonta has posted something I wrote with Dana Guthrie Martin at his blog, Via Negativa. It’s called “Poetry-Blogging, a Primer.” Take a look when you get a minute.
A sample from Mutating the Signature
Today is a collection of commemorative plates. The hours today are engraved pewter and painted enamel to dangle on wooden racks or be displayed on glass shelves. For this reason, those who take a moment to pause over the careful arrangement of minutes will want to number them in awe. This way, “collectors” will be able to savor their encounter with time. You have a date with a clock. You may need to protect yourself from the minute hand. This afternoon there is a buffet of schedules and a platter of appointments. Enjoy the sensation of waiting in line. In the rush of traffic think of each second’s hot touch. Use an egg timer and imagine the pleasure you might have. This
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