How will I be able to keep you if you don’t disgust me a little? Why do you wear lipstick with trousers that are stained and stain?
At the end of the raspberry patch I found my own darling telephone hiding away like a little reservist. Why do you disgust me?
I can’t see the bridge any more. “You look like a Dutch interior.” “Then I guess I do know how pretty I am.” But it is not dark, it is very sunny.
5 a.m. (4 a.m. EST)
The island from above Became a hook, gesturing. Filled with sounds, The shape of three fingers.
The family, bereft, Witness to the 5 a.m. The bruise-colored money left. The motorcade on the left.
The slit, a haiku: Focused, deep as a tap. To stab a man, To write a haiku.
Crimson almost-morning: The abettor. Bermuda has One more flower.
It’s hard to come back from a grand phase—
morning most difficult, its shadow a tucked-
under tail bringing us back to this century.
What century is it? I can’t see your hairstyle. Nuar Alsadir’s collection of poems, More Shadow than Bird, appeared in 2012, and she has new work forthcoming in Poetry London.
The poems never end, they go on and on and on and on. You may contact the editor at firstname.lastname@example.org.
High School: Industrial Arts
The lesson today is: someone always gets hurt. Will it be you or another fool? This is a choice. We provide the tools and materials. The saws, the wood, nails, and supervision. Fall not now in love, for it is merely a distraction from your assignment. Now, create this uninspired name plaque, build stacks of unstable shelves, lament your lack of craft as the heat of your lust forms in vaporous pools on the floor just below your work table. You thought this class would mean an easy credit. Welcome to our workhouse. No one leaves this building whole. Consider now how this building’s roof’s akin [...]
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take Coke Zero my white Apple charger this Old Grand-dad logo with its hair line sunken eyes hey & give hot potato skins a whirl they're good lunch conversation but just skins in the end & you can only dance so long around something till it dissolves in Zero most likely yes you'll be sipping on a glass if you want ice please call for rocks please sit back & that glow off the TV is kinda making you famous it's honestly making your head overshadow the far wall & everyone knows today's celebrities are only caught dead in Italian labels they wear their faces so loose in full sun Ben Purkert’s poems [...]
To Wendy from the Crow’s Nest — Portland
My Dear — If not from dream, before dawn, When the rain has not perished over the house, And you have sworn off four nights of sleep, And I have wrestled with a mind of airplanes and birth, And to know that you are leaving again in the morning, With me staying — or is it the other way around, Me leaving, and you staying, or both of us Boarding another flight to a strange city? — And always, too, both of us wondering If any of this exists, sleep, skies, birth, Mumbling in the frontiers of hotel rooms, Hauling our slender [...]
Flamingo tongue with a Saturn-ringworm shape, mainly very polished, part abalone sea-ear, probably named “cowrie”
for the fissure’s resemblance to the vulva of a sow, or the breast-implant- function it would later fill. The Romans called it
“porculi” for porcelain and little pig. The Greeks, “a column, a spiral staircase, a rococo currency.” Today they’re
known as “turbans,” “seizing Europe with the same fervor as Tulipmania.” Nonetheless, cowries use holes to breathe. “The raised parts”—
nervures and aureoles—protect by hugging “mantle lobes, labral portions,” when movement occurs. They live on submerged reefs emerg-
ing suddenly and slide over them with ease. Sara Sutter’s work appears [...]