Painting & Sculpture

A.E. Stallings on shipwrecks, daylight robbery, and the air in 19th century Athens. 

We cannot know his legendary head
with eyes like ripening fruit. And yet his torso
is still suffused with…

What if, Betye, instead of a rifle or hand
grenade—I mean, what if after
the loaded gun that takes two hands
to fire, I lay down the splintered broom
and the steel so cold it wets
my cheek? What if I unclench the valleys
of my...

i. samo© as an alternative to blah ... blahblahblah. blahzooey ... bblahblah quasi-blah ... etc.

(in…

Tell me about the first time you met Basquiat. Not this request again ...
So: Kobe has the ball, Staples…

By Nick Makoha

By Nick Makoha

By Nick Makoha

That was the season I couldn’t think or write indoors,
the garrulous springtime every strophe,
every felicitous story’s pulse
could only be crafted in tranquil cloisters,
illuminating belvederes, or rambling villas.
Luckily, it was an unbridled spring,
all immoderate daisies and sunlit pediments,
a bustling April, May,...

Delirium in the downtown mall today:
      Burt Reynolds! All the henna-haired girls
            sneer, while their mothers, enthralled, say,

“I saw you in this, I saw you in that–
      you were marvelous, simply...

My sweat soaked the sheets.

You used to be like everyone else

but then

the way you hurt me (fingers, teeth):

I grew accustomed to it

then I craved it

then I got bored

and other men tried to put death into my mouth.

Angelic Richie with bite...