“It is not tiring to count dresses.” GERTRUDE STEIN 1 This dress I am wearing in this black-and-white photograph, taken when I was two years old, was a yellow dress made of cotton poplin (a fabric with a slightly unsmooth texture first manufactured in the French town of Avignon and brought to England by the […]
Excerpt from BIOCEREMONIALS
Oonseentia. I go out into the city and find a tulip tree, the tallest tree I can find, the tree called oonseentia by the peoples native to this land, the tree these native peoples use to build their canoes. I intend to build a canoe of my own. I wait for lightning to strike and […]
THE MOMENT I SAW THE SEA NOT THE LAND (AFTER ETEL ADNAN)
Daily, I remind myself: the future is not dependent on your inability to describe your undoing. 〇 In the red notebook I carry always: a blank twenty-five-cent postcard of Silver Rock, Cannon Beach, Oregon; a small black-and-white photograph of a cattle crossing taken from behind the dashboard of a car facing the oncoming cattle caravan; […]
Dictionary under Quarantine/Alphabet for a Pandemic
Unprecedented times call for new forms, which is why I suggested to Greek writer Amanda Michalopoulou that we format our “interview” as a “dictionary.” I learned this from the writer Hilary Plum a decade ago when she interviewed me in this form. I supplied the words, Michalopoulou filled in the definitions. My hope was to […]
“The Sunlight Almost Touched Me”: Tactile Horrors in E.M. Forster’s The Machine Stops
He touched me, so I live to know That such a day, permitted so, I groped upon his breast. —Emily Dickinson[1] One of the first texts I had assigned for my 2020 spring environmental literarture course, Climate Emergencies, was E.M. Forster’s shocking visionary tale “The Machine Stops.” The story is set on a future […]
The Whale
Astroturf
Astroturf eats sun like a late meal. The heat greets my left cheek, right cheek rushes with soiled roadway breeze, I reconcile two or more feelings. The astroturf at the Women’s World Cup in 2015 was reportedly 120 degrees at kickoff. Hot surface for the hot […]
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Matter might be called imagination turned war, puzzling scenes in the bombardment during “that ongoing, vast but somehow boring destruction. The landscape grows increasingly perplexed. “Little conceived more American than the “cryptographic” since it can reorient sense, helping to account for turbulence that follows, therefore begins. Instance: color aspects of American democracy, or terror here […]
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RICHARD JACOBSON MARGARET JAKOBSON MURRAY JANOFSKY CONRAD JANOWITZ JEFFREY KAGEL KATHERINE KALINSKY BERNICE KAMIAT MELVIN KAMINSKY Afraid of dangling A participle: A reader Who knows the folks Who are running things Who value clarity and concision You might never get over How to make things Matter— perceptions of research Frames that are needed To understand […]
The Coppices of Pleasure
As the summer days get longer, the leaf canopy fills out and the woods darken. In the silence, purple flowers nod. I can’t recall the sensation of pleasure, only the context, which I would have to tell as a story. Would it turn you on? Here’s a story. Antoine Saint-Just rises before the Assembly and […]
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