Olga Broumas and T Begley’s Jamais Vu — gently traces the “never seen” bardos, the afterlife, with lyrical compositions, fragments that form midline and travel into the space of oblivion. This lyric sings the secret of poetry…Read More
a partial mission evolves, the familiar
is made partisan, approaching
the divine undressing of
the surrender to a riddle.
Before she was a gangster she was a cop. Before she was a cop she was a bee tamer. And before she was a bee tamer she was a mini Bernhardt in a gray fedora. She cross-dressed and crossed-over, stuck her hand into a world and kept her mouth shut.Read More
There is a flag on fire and amazing grace
I love you rage
I hate you face
“In this way, the lifeless signs turn into living symbols and the dead is revived."Read More
Rapture is our native tongue.
Words, the rungs we climb
from the cleft of our longings
to the free fall of innocence.
We are the walking memories of the earth
its broken beauties,
the ghostly songs
to the sun
& to the moon
& to the tides
& to the rains
half the day is spent just longing. the moon over the pale trees sunset in the breeze.Read More
the following are normal sounds
a dishwasher makes
throughout a lunar eclipse:
In shape and color we come to exist. With no more than these we can attest to our very deepest ideas and experiences. There certainly is much to worry about: an immortal violence churns…Read More
and her squinting suitor,
a boy who resembles Julio Iglesias,
all lush hair, even teeth, and sturdy hands.