Been rummaging—again—through the poems I wrote on my return to England. Found this one, with a refrain, a repetition, & repetition is very much puncturing the days without mercy. I don’t recall the exact details of my disposition at the time of writing this. Poems tend to fall into a constellation of activity, a particularly …
My close reading, examines the chapter ‘High Water’ from Amitav Ghosh’s Gun Island (2019). In this chapter, Deen and Cinta are in Venice. They visit the gentrified Punta della Dogana (Customs House Point), which Cinta remembers was a ‘dilapidated old place’[1] when she was a child. It has become ‘like every other building in …
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As promised, more from Yoon Yong. Library by the Sea— Geumneung Village …An outdoor library with little wooden cubes painted in shades of the sea & glass doors that hold 2 or 3 books —sand | pomegranate red & grass | the glass doors with smooth wooden knobs & little bronze hasps …
Memories of the dead while hiking (4:04 p.m.) …As her friend was dying | grasping desperately to a silly belief | she put a status on her Kakao Talk asking everyone she knew to “picture armies of cancer killing antibiotics in rank & file at the crenellation of her cancer’s fortress —each antibiotic soldier | …
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Before my hiatus, i did something i have never done. i wrote a handful of poems in a style i assumed a chosen journal would want to read. i made a royal pig’s ear of them. The poems, if i should salvage anything, would be nothing more than an egg cup full of lines, with …
firefly ㅕ instead of reading Heidegger or Edward Young i listen to Suzanne sung by Simone her piano, subdued as the gloaming, the distant neon steps of stars her minimal rhythm that fills limbs with move & sing along as throatily as possible in imitation of the nightingale Simone caged in her ribs stomp like …
