Poempoetry-magazinePlaster [“A shallow depth of field produces flames”]By Nathanael Jones A shallow depth of field produces flames in a dimmed distance, harlequin patterned jit or juke, footwork…
Poempoetry-magazineCarolee Schneemann—Interior Scroll (1975)By Rochelle Hurt[all my exes agree i’m too sensitive. inside i’m keeping track of slights on one long receipt, a diaristic…
ArticleA Hotel for PoetsBy Jackson DavidowFifty years after it was published, Elsa’s Housebook remains an intimate photographic document of the literary avant-garde.
Poempoetry-magazineCODEX©By Nick Makoha SAMO© first appears as a tag on a New York City wall in 1978 two blocks down from Aswad bookstore…
Poempoetry-magazineAfter “Killers of the Flower Moon”By Elise PaschenLily Gladstone confides she wore my great grandmother Eliza’s blankets in three scenes. I don’t remember…
PoemAfter RiefenstahlBy Major JacksonThe screen's fabrications remain. A filmshot never fails, sailing through the centurylike a black V …
PoemDouble FeatureBy Robert HaydenAt Dunbar, Castle or Arcadewe rode with the exotic sheikthrough deserts of erotic flowers;held in the…
PoemI Know a Silent Movie Star By Michael PalmerI know a silent movie star named Jane.She speaks without moving her lips.She once starred in a film …
PoemMeditation on InsomniaBy Josh Bell Kung-Fu, a couch, and I might reach emptiness tonight, stuck on that Midwest hoo-doo, counting cemetery…
PoemDear John WayneBy Louise ErdrichAugust and the drive-in picture is packed.We lounge on the hood of the Pontiacsurrounded by the slow…
PoemMoviesBy Langston HughesThe Roosevelt, Renaissance, Gem, Alhambra:Harlem laughing in all the wrong places at the crocodile …
PoemFellini in PurgatoryBy Jean ValentineHe was shoveling sandat the edge of the water, his heavy black glassesglittered with rain: "Don't you…
PoemJust Wanna Be LikeBy Douglas KearneyWas Him, once fini, on the beams,prior, He's hewer of thorntree.Could stretch tilapia and ewer,dole …
PoemWhat Is RealBy Timothy DonnellyAnd though we had fed long and well at the table the talk always turned to whether to go onregardless…
PoemHattie McDaniel Arrives at the Coconut GroveBy Rita Dovelate, in aqua and ermine, gardeniasscaling her left sleeve in a spasm of scent,her gloves white, her…