Egad, what a joyous day it is to have eyeballs on the Internet. I make Things and contend with Ailments. Welcome to chaos. Hehe.
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Well, I finally got over my odd fear of performing anything from Field Notes last night at Poet’s Monday.
I performed “samson” and “rehoboth” (not shown). The fundraiser mentioned in the video and caption is here. -Allēna
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“answer”
I could ask my body what will I do when it has fallen and regardless of which side I try and coax, pry, cajole, or beat an answer from –the deaf side or the silent one, the answer is always the same: it already has. sixteen percent of my brain died before I was a…
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We did blackout poetry in workshop today. This is what I came up with:
-Allēna
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“quizás // unmaking” – 17 April 2023
maybe I’ll write about the thingsI want nobody else to know aboutin codelong after I get home – or maybetime will burn the pages of my diary make me ozymandias, and sand and hate will clear my namefrom everything and everyone I made to make way for birch trees and the wheat field behind your…
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“treasure trove” by Eight, 2022
These are the things I keep tuckedbeneath my ribcagethat the last remaining part that is humanin me tries to keep hidden – my anger at death is just longing indisguisesociety is too scared to let me havemy anger is really passionand fear (except for the dull ache that livesbeneath my bottom left rib) (he wants…
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“salvo ii”
last night I made you a promise of a spiral staircase worth walking down a poetically just sort of kick to the chest -your heart nearly stops on a good dayscreaming odd time flutters when you’re distressed well, I’ve got some words that will keep it pounding right from the box I keep locked tight…
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I wrote this based on a conversation I had with a cool fellow poet after Poets’ Monday last week.
“fog kisses” the lake visits me and gives me little fog kissesas she’s been doing since before the housereached out its unforgiving arms and swallowed methey caress my skin and turnthe street lights into stage lightsevery turn on the drive home is a perfectly framedwork of art I once called her my wife many years…
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“regarding an incident on october 20, 2020”
dancing off the edge of the worldtired of all the motion and the sickness it’s been five years and I’m not sure if I’ve gotten better or so much fucking worse (I feel like a walking corpse)(a snake in your garden) I still hate you for what you did except I tell myself I no…
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Eight wrote this in 2022. It’s called “salome”.
my teen years taught me nothing of importance except how to write clear and deepabout what hurtsI’ve written enough by now to fill a small library, solook back with me – I prayed for an ideal in cold rooms and I still became the only one who couldsave me you look at me at my…
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I wrote this at the poetry workshop today. It’s called “strange entanglement”.
I love you in a way you cannot love yourselfin a twice divorced, second wife way that never happened, you want me so bad you don’t care if your chokehold love is killing me and I think it would kill you to stop pretending I think it would kill you to let me go even…