Tag Archives: Blackout Poetry

to stone relentles

What I’m Listening To: A long black over coat will show no stainFeel the heat and the burn on your backThe rip and the moan and the stretch of the rackAll my belongings in a flour sackWill the place I … Continue reading

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an impossible form

Blackout-ish Poem 02.03.14 (redux) An irritating squirrel saysTo an umbrella made of stone: You are a conflation of an Absurdist dialectic.You are an impossible form. The umbrella sprouts a stratocumulus cloud on its ferrule and floats away. The squirrel, inspired, … Continue reading

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invited to remember

Nightmare Erasures (redux) What I’m Reading: NO WRITING IS WASTED. EVEN WHAT WE THROW out is progress.  — Elizabeth McCracken / A Long Game: Notes on Writing Fiction

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wedge or arc

To Snare A Ghost (a blackout) Final List Electric bedroomNew witchAdd wall next to trackWedge or arcChange entry Too damaged byChangeWe want to keep them at 8 foot heightCloseMetal doorsNo change to living hard painChange vanityApart (we may do this … Continue reading

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eff ew poets

erasure erasure What I’m Reading: … We’ve already sinned so much … — Anton Chekhov / The Cherry Orchard

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pitched evoke image

American Scree 19 (erasure / blot poem #66) He demons in language.During his compositions not to cognition The letters instead The letterskind of flashycorrespond to kindof potential colors,whose called for colors, high pitchedevokeimage lights imagery,a whole kind of citydistanced from emphasis … Continue reading

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true blue americana

a ruin (a blackout) once we have torn shit downwanting and beingimmersive worksExpanding the surface dimension the revolutionary leadera ruinenslaved against the colonialgovernment of the united states the surface indigoenslaved A driverwoveninto “true blue” americana What I’m Reading: If the … Continue reading

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ghastly hands perched

Manos: A Slice of My Memories (a blackout poem) Christmas was sheer terror. Every year as dark descended,my mother appeared — ghastly hands perched at the end of the tableancient twins— A slice of fixed mistrust. Father an assortment of … Continue reading

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others needed clarity

The Dour Psephologist The dour psephologist opened her eyes and instinctively reached for the phone. She tore off the charge cord, opened the notes app, and immediately started her thumbs pistoning. She enviviosned the dream as a perfectly composed script … Continue reading

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the stone cool

offing blackout erasure redux What I’m Reading: I try to talkwith “I,” but “I” doesn’t trustme. “I” says I amslippery by nature. — Tori Derricotte / “Speculations about ‘I’”

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