Spectacle
Kathryn Hargett-Hsu
My vision burned like microfilm, frame to core.

Then it was all shadow & line. That fist

of candy stars scattered across the ER—

that could not be my mind—but I was already

expelling my body from my body.

My body turned inside out, then outside in.

I felt like a bag of blood. I was a bag of blood.

Feeling & being: twin pebbles passed between three shells,

identical & vanishing. Everyone thought what a waste

because I thought what a waste. Oh it was humiliating.

I wanted to be monogamous with my suffering,

to be regarded only by the obsidian eye

of that which devours me. Instead, I made myself a drama

of dry obsessions, my seaweed & my animal parts

spit into the suicide’s scrutinized theater.

There was death. Death was a single-celled organism

reacting to light. It moved towards me

on its slow bristles of cilia, crawled over my face

& continued its journey elsewhere.
from the journal THE ADROIT JOURNAL
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Cover image of Matthew Rohrer's new book, Army of Giants
Ian Fishman Talks to Matthew Rohrer

"There is no perfect poem, and I think, perfection, how dreary. If I have an idea for a poem or even an image that I want to try out, I’ll write that poem ten times. Not a revision, not ten drafts, but I’ll just do it again, and I’ll do nine more. I know there’s no perfect way to do it, but one of them will be the best one, or one of them will be the most exciting."

via BOMB
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Cover of Diane Seuss' book, Modern Poetry
What Sparks Poetry:
Diane Seuss on Reading Prose


"Keats’s ballad opens with three stanzas in the voice of a questioner, after which the knight-at-arms takes over, answering the questioner through storytelling. Likewise, set at the center of Lorca’s poem is a dialogue between the older and younger man. As the green girl teeters on the balcony, suspended between dream and reality, life and death, so Keats’s knight occupies the in-between, stranded by the faery 'On the cold hill’s side.' And each poem, in its way, serves as an allegory for the container itself, the ballad form, which inhabits the liminal space between narrative and lyric, story and song."
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