bric-a-brac

Wish more people ascribed to this.

Thu, 16 May 2013 10:46:37 -0400

Wish more people ascribed to this.

Nü glasses. (via Instagram)

Tue, 14 May 2013 14:19:00 -0400

Nü glasses.

(via Instagram)

THE POET DESCRIBES AN ORGASM

Mon, 13 May 2013 14:01:39 -0400

saturnrising:

My body fills           and fills            like a tumbler
of lemonade           poured by God.           I am
a hundred light            bulbs burning             out.
I am your           favorite dessert.        I am opening
and opening          and I feel as though          I cannot
open anymore or           my legs          would surely grow
flowers            from the back of my           knees.
I am overflowing          the bathtub.           I am spilling
spilling    spilling               clean.

- Sierra DeMulder (via sierrademulder)

"Never try to convey your idea to the audience - it is a thankless and senseless task. Show them..."

Mon, 13 May 2013 11:41:44 -0400

“Never try to convey your idea to the audience - it is a thankless and senseless task. Show them life, and they’ll find within themselves the means to assess and appreciate it.”

- Andrei Tarkovsky

Language Lesson 1976 | Heather McHugh

Mon, 13 May 2013 10:43:00 -0400

When Americans say a man

takes liberties, they mean

he’s gone too far. In Philadelphia today I saw

a kid on a leash look mom-ward

and announce his fondest wish: one

bicentennial burger, hold

the relish. Hold is forget,

in American.

On the courts of Philadelphia

the rich prepare

to serve, to fault. The language is a game as well,

in which love can mean nothing,

doubletalk mean lie. I’m saying

doubletalk with me. I’m saying

go so far the customs are untold.

Make nothing without words,

and let me be

the one you never hold.

theparisreview: “As a child I thought it was very boring when I...

Sun, 12 May 2013 23:36:11 -0400

theparisreview:

“As a child I thought it was very boring when I had to sit with [my mother] on the city streets, but the time sank deep and surfaced later.” —Reynolds Price

Mama & me this afternoon. Spittin’ image, huh?

Sun, 12 May 2013 23:02:00 -0400

Mama & me this afternoon. Spittin’ image, huh?

alinapleskova: Anne Carson, from Eros: The Bittersweet

Tue, 07 May 2013 18:50:35 -0400

alinapleskova:

Anne Carson, from Eros: The Bittersweet

"If we deny our happiness, resist our satisfaction, we lessen the importance of their deprivation. We..."

Mon, 06 May 2013 10:14:11 -0400

“If we deny our happiness, resist our satisfaction,
we lessen the importance of their deprivation.
We must risk delight. We can do without pleasure,
but not delight. Not enjoyment. We must have
the stubbornness to accept our gladness in the ruthless
furnace of this world.”

- Jack Gilbert, from “A Brief for the Defense”

Mimosa | Mary Ruefle

Mon, 06 May 2013 09:56:18 -0400

for James Schuyler

Pink dandruff of some tree
afloat on the swimming pool.
What’s that bird?
I’m not from around here.
My mail will probably be forwarded
as quietly as this pink fluff
or a question or morphine
or impatience or a mistake
or the infinite method
established by experience
but never in this world.
I’ve always wanted to use
malarkey and henna in a poem
and now I have.
Oh Jimmy, all you ever wanted
was to see the new century
but no such luck.
You never saw a century plant
either, or you would have
taken another drink.
They grow for one hundred years,
bloom in their centenary spring
then die forevermore.
The stalk is ten feet tall
(you’d be jealous) rising
out of a clump of cactus leaves
(think yucca) then busting into
creamy ovoids flaming
on the candelabrum.
I was in an air-conditioned car
when I saw it but still felt
the heat of its beauty,
I wanted to stop and talk to it
but we sped on, so tonight
I’ll xanax myself to sleep
with the sweet thought that
today and every day is a
century plant of its own
seeded awful long beginning
blooming in drive-by yelps
of love and helplessness
and you saw plenty of them,
spectacular and sad as
a head of hennaed hair,
a lot of malarkey
if you ask anybody
other than us.

"Poems are not made out of words. They’re made out of emotional absences, rips and tears. That’s the..."

Thu, 02 May 2013 12:35:44 -0400

““Poems are not made out of words. They’re made out of emotional absences, rips and tears. That’s the incomplete true fabric of the text. “”

- Eileen Myles, here.

"For heaven’s sake, what kind of question is that? Would you want to be friends with Humbert Humbert?..."

Wed, 01 May 2013 16:11:57 -0400

“For heaven’s sake, what kind of question is that? Would you want to be friends with Humbert Humbert? Would you want to be friends with Mickey Sabbath? Saleem Sinai? Hamlet? Krapp? Oedipus? Oscar Wao? Antigone? Raskolnikov? Any of the characters in The Corrections? Any of the characters in Infinite Jest? Any of the characters in anything Pynchon has ever written? Or Martin Amis? Or Orhan Pamuk? Or Alice Munro, for that matter? If you’re reading to find friends, you’re in deep trouble. We read to find life, in all its possibilities. The relevant question isn’t “is this a potential friend for me?” but “is this character alive?””

- Claire Messud, in response to Publisher’s Weekly

"CPR: Would you make an observation about today’s poetry landscape. HC: It might be overly concerned..."

Mon, 29 Apr 2013 16:14:57 -0400

“

CPR: Would you make an observation about today’s poetry landscape.

HC: It might be overly concerned with observing itself.

”

- Abigail (Zimmer) Christian interviewed me for the Columbia Poetry Review blog. (I’ve got a couple of poems in the new issue.)

SUCH ANGELS BY JOHN GODFREY

Mon, 29 Apr 2013 12:22:24 -0400

jackeesad:

Headland behind me
All the suspicions
that drain heaven
Has no taste, snow
but aftertaste of lanolin
protects such angels as fly
Look for something orange
Instead see a light
There will be smoke

By far the most radiant
heap of grime
Narrowed byways
Each step succeeded
by splatter
Seems more and more often
that darkness descends
Without wind I prefer it

Sidewalks are I know
very large rooms
To circle the room
I need a partner
Turns out the accent
is French french
I take her hand in mine
She begins to dance

Time is ripe, put that
down for a second
Around us lights on
the inside are the outside
What about our clothing
Our scarves begin
an intimacy
An hour sooner or later
Everything that happens
The ones we abandon

"The 20th century is an enormous effort at self-healing. Phenomenon as diverse as surrealism, body..."

Fri, 26 Apr 2013 13:43:35 -0400

“

The 20th century is an enormous effort at self-healing. Phenomenon as diverse as surrealism, body piercing, psychedelic drug use, sexual permissiveness, jazz, experimental dance, rave culture, tattooing. The list is endless.

What do all these things have in common?

They represent various styles of rejection of linear values.

The society is trying to cure itself by an archaic revival. By a reversion to archaic values.

When I see people manifesting sexual ambiguity, or scarifying themselves, or showing a lot of flesh, or dancing to syncopated music, or getting loaded, or violating ordinary canons of sexual behavior, I applaud all of this.

Because it’s an impulse to return to what is felt by the body.

What is authentic.

What is archaic.

”

- Terence McKenna (via suciomalvestido)

theparisreview: INTERVIEWER Trains appear often in your novels—what do they symbolize? CLAUDE...

Wed, 24 Apr 2013 11:33:58 -0400

theparisreview:

INTERVIEWER

Trains appear often in your novels—what do they symbolize?

CLAUDE SIMON

Nothing but trains.

alinapleskova: Reppin’ Apiary in the Philadelphia Inquirer...

Tue, 23 Apr 2013 11:24:59 -0400

alinapleskova:

Reppin’ Apiary in the Philadelphia Inquirer today, courtesy of columnist Kevin Riordan’s lively write-up/interview with us, here. (We sure do love this city & its poets— check out those massive, goofy grins.)

Everyone looks adorable except for my unphotogenic ass self, but way more importantly/interestingly— that article makes me feel so proud of what Apiary is doing here in Philly.

"Comfort, commitment, and contentment used to be dirty words to me, but now I understand they..."

Mon, 22 Apr 2013 14:10:30 -0400

““Comfort, commitment, and contentment used to be dirty words to me, but now I understand they don’t mean giving up your life, moving to the suburbs, buying Luna bars in bulk at Costco, and fantasizing about hiring a landscaper.””

- Ophira Eisenberg

"I don’t know how people Understand their lives, measure Their sensations against “objective” Or..."

Mon, 22 Apr 2013 10:57:09 -0400

“I don’t know how people
Understand their lives, measure
Their sensations against “objective”
Or so-to-speak democratic estimations,
Whether people accept the externality
Of events, “events,” as things
That happen to them. I refuse
To accept some coagulate
Of other people’s
Impressions in exchange for this
Privacy, no matter how flawed it is.
This is lyric poetry. It has to be. It has
No other hope. What was it
About you and me that made whatever
Happen to us. In New York
Everything fell apart. What I dreaded
And expected.
But still. Tonight
It is dark and the weather is cooler
Than it’s been. It has taken
A while for Fall to break; the global
Warming kept me in summer
Love with you like I was under a
Fermata. Now that the times
Are changing, I feel
Even more for you; or I feel nothing.
I can’t tell; it’s kind
Of scary. I was sick of thinking
About you this morning but
I was listening to Bob Dylan and Leonard
Cohen in order to think about
You for literary purposes.
When I feel nothing for a person
I get scared I’m losing my humanity
And that turning cold means
My heart’s been botoxed: we’re
All fucked.
I watched a movie on YouTube
Called Ladies and Gentlemen, Mister
Leonard Cohen that was made when
He was still just a poet and only
Famous in Canada.
He’s a pretentious little nerd
In it, self-important, teacher’s pet wit.
I think that, making music, he became
So much nakeder, much more desperate.
The talent, real, even pure, even
Natural, had to ripen in
The artificial man.
Alain Badiou, on the day
Of his class, said, “Because an event
Is pure rapture, an event disappears
Immediately: it does not exist
Objectively, but only by appearing
And disappearing.” This is both
Precise and vague; it is attractive
I guess. I guess since you and me did not
Disappear immediately, it was
Not pure rapture, not in these
Terms, but my smile
Was real each time I swallowed
Your cum. Getting
Fucked by you was great; I could
Feel it in my organs, but
You didn’t make me go insane
Except for maybe once
Or twice. Actually maybe I am
Being unfair. Maybe the fucking really
Was that great. In this moment I
Can’t remember.”

- from “[Trying to see the proportional relation]” by Ariana Reines

alinapleskova: Ca$h rules everything around me. Morning after...

Mon, 22 Apr 2013 10:53:20 -0400

alinapleskova:

Ca$h rules everything around me.

Morning after glamour shots..