Rupi Kaur, an Instagram poet, wrote a poem named, “where the depression came from”. This poem is informal and uses no standard punctuation or capitalization to signify complete sentences. Her poem has meaning and depth that airs the complexity of human emotions. Where does depression come from? Can you tie down this emotion to one […]
Evening Song By Rachel Windsor Sorrow took your breath like a chill wind. The silence robbed the night, and your last breath Took its place among the elements My voice echos, magnifying your absence. New statue In a drafty museum, your stillness Shadows my terror. I stand shocked angry as fence rows I am no […]
Brittle Bones By Rachel Windsor Life is short, though I hide this from my consciousness Life is shortening, they’ve shortened mine In a thousand deceitful, horrendous ways, A thousand deceitful, horrendous ways I’ll pretend to not hear. The world is at LEAST Ninety percent terrible, and That’s a conservative Estimate, though I keep this […]
Did you know that Jo made a hybrid? Something about being versatile that makes the world go round and round. Because you simply spin me. And Manson ain’t quite Manson no more. Whatever happened to cults? Did the weather get too cold or clout? There’s something to this language stuff. A rhetorical flourish, an ornamental […]
Babydoll I can’t quite hear you. It’s hard to say how. Everything is fast and slow. I think you are someone. A loud silence, the dawn. The sound of rushing toward. Everything is quiet when my. Sitting on the bed before. On the couch, we both. I’ll call as soon as. But first […]
“This Adjective” after Charles Bernstein’s “This Line” This adjective is stripped of attributes. This adjective is no more than a blank void of your own subconscious. This adjective is bereft of description. This adjective has no distinguishable reference apart from its context in relativity, referentiality. This adjective only describes itself. This adjective does not distinguish: […]
It is somewhat difficult to discern precisely what the Language poets were all about. On one hand, they seem to have been focused on the notion that language itself represents some form of oppression, whereby writing perpetuates capitalist agendas, conformity, colonialism, social immobility, and even stands in the way of free thinking. The act of […]
Feeling sad?—Take Lexapro or pray. The church kicked me out.—I guess the minister shouldn’t have been so obvious. Writers block?—Be an elitist and use useless rhetoric. Everybody upset with form.—Relax, they’re always going to rhyme. Can’t find no peace in D.C.?—Try being black. Constant recalls, variants, social unrest, and reality television.—Thank God for the Kardashians. […]
“A word” This word means something. It is a word that tells, tries, describes, can capsize. It is a word; it is singular. It has no relations. It has no contenders. It is a word, plentiful, rife with superstitions about itself. It takes up as much space as its letters can ward. Word is […]
He thinks about that unholy clandestine way He met that young man in the fray Of nightclubs, and deleted apps That married man is a hapless sap And he goes home at the end of the day To lie to his wife in all caps But morning will come and eventually noon When you’re a […]