Nadaísta

Amílkar U., Nadaísta

Trans. by Camilo Roldán

these signals press

Nor torsos. Here were the words dark matter. Ritual archeology – delve into an alternate university’s torture workshop. Nobody studies (studies of nobodies). Witness ourselves these carcasses in livid vivisection. Candlelit gallery, stained glass, discarded harpsichord, gory furniture. And stanzas amass that languish withstanding.

Drinking with Matthew

Eric Gelsinger, Drinking with Matthew

What did the mystic say to his shrink? Listen to this misfortunate bliss. My personal man party, dick jokes and poker, art and sports (sparts!), fandemonium, a million yuks. The thinking instills intimate bullshit from a deep, drunk, middle-class childhood. Ball pit, roller rink, dirty feeling. Money humiliates all of us assholes. Keeping it real: I could pee an eternity.

Cara Benson

Cara Benson, Cara Benson

Propolis Press

Identity and principle. "I" – lip-synching hypocrite (“Cara Benson”) confront power, center stage. She makes a spectacle of caring desperately, swallowing pride, then genuine raging. Lines break w/ a clarity that clears the auditorium’s air. "I" – disembodied “audience” slowly disengage, fall from my chair. There’s no misreading the cataclysmic: “It’s coming.” So why O why do we leave her pleading?

Headless Multi Vs Perpetual Interface

Billy Cancel, Headless Multi Vs Perpetual Interface

Hidden House Press

Book as blizzard of sizzling drill bits. We’re out, wasted latenights, walking into walls, picking fights we can’t win. Our grid scout – Billy in silver facepaint. Songs happen upon: patterned litterfall, syntax trainwrecks, pixely derelicts, poplocking drunk. A funky cosmos juxtaposed. His rhythms ramble (bramble status). The feet maintain, but the brains beat in.

Latronic Strag

Sara Deniz Akant, Latronic Strag

Its origin: gray area, hoop earring. Binary, trinity, dot dot dot. I heart Central Park on her Atari harmonica. Hot metropolitan doppelgangers and their designer neologisms. A digital roll call: all the little piggies, parroting pirates, lobotomized kites, hobo strollers. Hobgoblins are hovering in the cloud cover. Inside, snow glows, limelight-white.

"Coke!

Only Voyage

Aaron Lowinger, Only Voyage

This is living. Poetry, friends, bound by keyring, freewheelin' around the kingdom, crying out loud. We lost boys ride side-stapled to the old soul's Toyota. Apostles to lots of coffee and endless talking shit. How we know, what we know, that nothing, nowhere, here nor there, ground beneath goes through the air. The Thruway it's down on paper. I promise you, spirit only.