From realpoetik at scn9.scn.org Sun Oct 4 20:48:56 2009 From: realpoetik at scn9.scn.org (RealPoetik Magazine) Date: Sun, 4 Oct 2009 20:48:56 -0700 Subject: [Realpoetik] Hazel McClure Message-ID: <86a3fe410910042048t1ff9d26euec388c75c3699875@mail.gmail.com> UNTITLED These days won’t abide – my slung love, my tutor, my boyfriend, my crush. Do you resist reporting? Are you the detective, leave- taker, the empty-eyed got? My simplest questions, church bells threatening the air. WHAT CROWS DO IN RAIN ‘It’ never occurred. Play this jump. Preserve your loneliness. It never occurred to me—sing—in crooked time. Refuse shelter for little sparks at your wings. Every turn along the trunk is possible until tunes lose homing vision. Mom is wiping flour from her hands, her gold straining at the neck to be precious. I never noticed the doorway behind my shoulder until a stranger walked through. Up in top nooks there’s a cliché looking down; That’s also yearning, and only that from outside. *Hazel McClure* wrote *Nothing Moving, *a chapbook from Lame House press. Her work has been published in *Mirage #4/ Period(ical*), *the tiny *and* Coconut**.* She lives and writes in Grand Rapids, Michigan, where she is a librarian. -- RealPoetik realpoetik.blogspot.com -------------- next part -------------- An HTML attachment was scrubbed... URL: From realpoetik at scn9.scn.org Sun Oct 11 17:44:46 2009 From: realpoetik at scn9.scn.org (RealPoetik Magazine) Date: Sun, 11 Oct 2009 20:44:46 -0400 Subject: [Realpoetik] Timothy Yu In-Reply-To: <86a3fe410910061042q2860a708m4151186bfbf62884@mail.gmail.com> References: <86a3fe410910061042q2860a708m4151186bfbf62884@mail.gmail.com> Message-ID: <86a3fe410910111744t58c9f198q2b83bb11b4b0aa65@mail.gmail.com> DRIVE Here we are “east” of something see orange slow down save lives expression of grief and rage ha ha girlfriend in the show instructions How can I write anything devoid of contempt this dissatisfaction A smell of cars gone to ground A platform elevated by human legs You might truck in oil for sweetness It’s a job—land for sale—here I want to know what has happened to my vision of a devastated bulb protected by a cage of shadow an oat stuck in my teeth You have exactly 13 minutes to circle the drain of a different culture doors open on the left and right awareness week your dad’s house in Milwaukee your step sister’s down south no bids I could just eat like crazy a red mass pierced by cutlery in the 24-hour hotel room of my heart and then I am back in school like a half-hour special riding a Vespa through the empty halls of California there is a what I cannot tell you this warmed-up gazpacho of many doors closing oh and then Nick said on email that he had a big car an open 40 behind the angled screen Indianapolis Bloomington I still want to drive I know it’s wrong I have a little car *Timothy* *Yu* is the author of the chapbook *Journey to the West* (Barrow Street) and the critical book *Race and the Avant-Garde: Experimental and Asian American Poetry since 1965* (Stanford University Press). His poems and prose have appeared in *SHAMPOO*, *Rabbit Light Movies*,* Boog City* , and *Chicago Review*. He teaches at the University of Wisconsin-Madison. -- RealPoetik realpoetik.blogspot.com -------------- next part -------------- An HTML attachment was scrubbed... URL: From realpoetik at scn9.scn.org Sun Oct 18 20:16:56 2009 From: realpoetik at scn9.scn.org (RealPoetik Magazine) Date: Sun, 18 Oct 2009 23:16:56 -0400 Subject: [Realpoetik] Jennifer Nelson Message-ID: <86a3fe410910182016h7bc6b87aye404b5209cda3772@mail.gmail.com> SUMMER ANSWERS WITH A CHAINSAW summer answers with a chainsaw no a circle jerk of slow and rusty chainsaws try to be the opposite of birds the children sweet droolbags stopped the village streets and lo a lamb born in the castle with the head of a castle the nursery full of squirmy towers no children but quiet melters into drool then the enclosed garden the unicorn’ll tell you shaving horn’s like shaving teeth your pretty shard path totally worth it like chewing totally worth it like if you’re ready to be naked insert your pretty brain, I’ll break it *Jennifer Nelson* writes about Northern Renaissance art, and maintains a blog of speculative and parodic art history at reepsow.blogspot.com. She currently lives in Brooklyn. -- RealPoetik realpoetik.blogspot.com -------------- next part -------------- An HTML attachment was scrubbed... URL: From realpoetik at scn9.scn.org Sun Oct 25 17:20:54 2009 From: realpoetik at scn9.scn.org (RealPoetik Magazine) Date: Sun, 25 Oct 2009 17:20:54 -0700 Subject: [Realpoetik] Patrick Culliton Message-ID: <86a3fe410910251720o1bd6e852n73abe19c9c078bae@mail.gmail.com> ROOTED TO THE SPOT IN WHICH I DON'T APPLY She wears summer, a bird on her clavicle, and combs the day thin with rowdy arms. Triangular and sailing, she unlocks the pages of distance. Pipers mobile her solitary umbrella. How she stays when a storm turns over the bay. The slow knife, the kiwi, and the rubber band wrist. Lightning pings, clouds change gowns. Warning pulls the plug and the sand drains of goers. How she remains, silent and right, her face lit by the sun’s slow soap. *Patrick Culliton* lives in Chicago. His poems have appeared, or will soon, in *Coconut*, *Conduit*, *The Hat*, *The Journal*, *jubilat*, *Rabbit Light Movies*, *Third Coast*, and elsewhere. He is the recipient of a 2009 Individual Artists Fellowship from the Illinois Arts Council. He teaches at the University of Illinois-Chicago and has a chapbook forthcoming from Octopus Books in Spring 2010. -- RealPoetik realpoetik.blogspot.com -------------- next part -------------- An HTML attachment was scrubbed... URL: