Monthly Archives: February 2026

Cold and Fog She made an unusual, exciting discovery—rosary narrations with warbling wooers at the center of earplug spaces—messages in the marmalades, esoteric concatenations, erotic liberations, scratched phonographs. Her observational arched eyebrow and nuanced approach to clam ranching led to … Continue reading →

Disjecta, Kansas (redux) At 80 miles an hour, about two and a half hours east of Denver, she tore through the state line into Kanorado, Kansas and pumped the brakes upon sighting a half dozen state troopers lined up behind … Continue reading →

chicken in a box i jump off the bed—cold granito floorjudders my core—legs & spine ablazelower braindoused in fire. i dread theconflagration in my headas i peck awayat my dreamslike one conditionedinside an arcade game box. slot a quarter in the box& … Continue reading →

Memorable Stuff I Read This Week I just don’t want to be conscious sometimesbecause when you’re conscious in the ordinary wayyou have to think about yourself a lot Dull thoughts like what am I doing? — Anne Waldman / “How … Continue reading →

Equivalencies (redux) She dances to KOKOKO! because there is nothing else in the world she would rather do.  That is all there is to it, when one’s desires collide with the past. She was a child when the rebels raided her … Continue reading →

let be be finale of seem… It’s all about noise. About the back and forth of improvisational counterpoint — an F flat ostinato call here, an arpeggio of the B scale in response there…  like the scale of wildfires and … Continue reading →

A Day Gray February Dark thought on a gray day —gray in every gradation: 18% gray card graythe ideal photographic gray of wet city streets& shards of east river gray the cold of gainsborogray rain dead-eye graypale ash gray — … Continue reading →

Dendritic Bolus Blues (Dream at 3:38 am) Instead of changing my shirt I changed my mind and requested a reverse baptism. Get the father son and the Laszlo Moholy Ghost outta’ my body. Get ‘em all outta’ my soul. Forthwith. … Continue reading →

our time is up this belongs to my dead aunt fedora, she says, channeling her from beyond the green a guest of the foredecks couldn’t salvage her nonchalance from a platoon of ambient debris let’s call her dorothy march, let’s … Continue reading →