Tag: prose poetry


There are two ways of looking at every situation. Let’s call them A and B. If they were people, they’d be David and Peter. Or, as I remind myself to degender that ambiguous jellyfish of the mind, let’s call them Valen and Valen. Valen is the type of person who walks down the street every […]


Writing is a ritual for me nowadays. I don’t do it unless I have to, but I do it every day. I get into something nice, I put on music. I draw the shades. I sit in a comfortable position, and I pull out the blank page. The blank page is a canvas for this […]


Smoking away in the stairwell I put the still-warm weapon into my mouth again. Pull, catch and release like an angler, the smoke trail a tangled lure. Dissipating into the intersection of moonlight and wind, the breeze rolling in like a policeman waiting to catch us. For what? We haven’t done anything wrong. We’re just […]


Knives knives knives knivesKnives in the gap of your teethKnives in between your eyelids Knives like crowbars propping your mouth openKnives diving into flesh like eagles Knives underneath every nailKnives as the opposite of a hammer What is a pair of scissors but two knives held together with a common purpose Knives as an exploration […]


I don’t know the other face of the Moon. Mankind has not taught me enough to look past first appearances, and my head is always pointed towards the ground. My doctors told me that if I did not look up more my bones would set and my ligaments would become taut like ropes bound to […]


Do not backtrack. Do not delete. You should have come here with no expectations, like the way you were born. Or perhaps, there were already expectations threaded in your baby blue. You want to be something great, an absolute phenom, but the work to get there is beyond your comprehension. We’re not talking a closet […]


Straining my brain for juices for poetics because I am rushing out a poem to impress my friends and to some extent myself. Everything is written to impress another – oh, look at how expressive I am, look at the complexities and contours of my makeup heart. Sometimes I don’t have anything good to say. […]


Right where it belongs the half-fucked pop schizophrenic forestman plucks a book off the branches of a library-tree and plops it down on the mud. In the clearing where all the words stop hooting a line forms to spit into the face of God. See the safety of the life that he has escaped, this […]


People streaming out of classrooms, people never looking back on nature, people crowding about in smoking corners, people typing fervently on their laptops, people with their earphones plugged in and the music so loud they don’t hear their own keys, people who lie, people who live by power points, people who die by caffeine, people […]