“I think I came to and still come to writing as a sounding board—and I mean that in both senses. As a way not just to record experience, but to be or to have one, to investigate one’s habitus. What’s that Oppen line: “There are things we live among and to see them is to know ourselves.” I think of it as a way of seeing more deeply.”
“Humor is essential to survival. Funny poems are vastly underrated. Very underwritten.”
“Dawn is a color
I am condemned to describe”
— From “NYC Postcards,” from DJ Dolack’s Whittling A New Face, which Allyson Paty reviews at The Rumpus.


Life goes on, but individual poems
stop. The most you can hope for is the line
that doesn’t end with a period. You
are suspended in the middle of a
sentence, possibly look up, then resume
reading as if the music never stopped,
as if everyone didn’t have to dive
for the chairs, of which there were always one
too few. This was before birthdays returned
with such increasing rapidity that
you lost count, the world hurtling around the
small yellow star, the entire universe
flashing past your bewildered eyes until,
like a premeditated sonnet, all is still.

A poem from Bilateral Asymmetry by Don Riggs, which L.S. Bassen reviews over at The Rumpus.

Two Poems


by Blake Bergeron

"Boat Bed" by Jen May

Much Much

Because they’re so little
the honeybees can blow
bubbles in the dew;
did you know that? Time
seemed to ring on my frame

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“The wisdom of poetry is a ladder to the underground. The wisdom of poetry is a rope dropped out of the skies. The wisdom of poetry is a passage past the rocks of doubt. The wisdom of poetry is the full receipt of both ancient and contemporary poetic forms.”

They blow up strips of the geoplast and take things, coal, and crush things, gravel. They do this during the long nights and hooked together so that it is an endless night […]

Products say to do that.

The rock moved to here, it became us […]

— In Fire Break by George Albon, reviewed by Benjamin Landry

Five Poems


from Sonnets of Northern Darkness by David W. Pritchard


from Small Print by Justine Basa


And another thing about guitar solos: if I can’t
write a poem of fourteen perfect metered lines of
                                       I won’t be able to express myself,

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The Rumblr highly recommends Jessa Crispin’s Spolia.


Spolia Issue #9: Disappearance, available now!

Mia Gallagher, Vivian Maier, Ander Monson, lost and destroyed art, and an amazing cover by Laure Albin-Guillot.

Buy now for a measly $5.