I assembled the best poets I know for a poetry collective on patreon. The above video is a sample of the kind of work you can expect.
I will tame blank pages
Like The Titanic tamed the iceberg
Like Kennedy tamed the bullet
Like The Challenger tamed the bonds of earth
At the high end shopping facility
Everything presents as a threat
The opulence surrounding
The Range Rovers harsh
Their halogens upon a blinded world
Bear the weight
Of state violence
Fingers which know the touch
Of 911 dials
Those who smile and wave to cops
Now we know who they’re willing
In untold number
To avoid the slightest inconvenience
I empty thick harrows in muddy heaps
Plasticine and shadowed
There is no room for this face anymore.
Pigments of hair
Rile in aisles
The thickness of manes
What r u
Some sort of
All anxieties plunder?
I am aether transpondent
A yawn rises
It’s only 3am
You’re not allowed to sleep anymore
Not since the war
There is no righteousness in your mercy
But you’re sanctimonious all the same.
LSD Soundsystem plays on the TV I found by the garbage cans today. 1/3 of the screen doesn’t work and I painted a smiley face on it. It’s the best TV I’ve ever owned.
Somewhere someone is telling a joke that only makes in the moment and every subsequent attempt to recall it will only be a hollow echo.
I only give you the parts of myself I’m willing to part with.
The internet is messy sterility.
I’m wearing a skirt right now and that’s the only thing that makes sense.
Airing my clean laundry to the world is such dirty business.
My love was a hurricane but now rises with the water table.
Each night when I go to sleep I become a termite. I am an ugly, shiny, pale thing in a colony full of other ugly, shiny, pale things.
I do the work of other termites. I am not very high up in the chain of command. I bite and I bite and I bite at the hard wood. It feels like I will lose my teeth. The other termites bark orders. I work harder. I want to quit but I will starve if I do.
When I wake up I have splinters in my teeth and stuck in my gums. My furniture is fucked. I’ve gone through eight tables this year. The people at the furniture store know me. I’m afraid they have figured it out.