those motherfuckers only take indecent photographs of ice blinks.
there’s a stitch in my rib it is mobile it has been there for a week it is hard not to lie
down with a stitch / secure all the rooms / sleep in front of the closet and ignore wind
erasure is synaptic gesture / when i die i hope it will not be soon and not from
cancer / someone tried to kill her / he bought guns and video
taped himself making a bomb mailer for her / my wash basin is covered with toothpaste
which is unfortunate because otherwise it is such a lovely, green color / was it the right
decision? enraging white house canines / pasture / if i listened
maybe / but we are still manipulating you and squaring off / o maybe they will take a
cross-section of my lung freeze half then sputter off OFF: i am a soldier in my
own military / in my house the war is always on/ more details/ more
loosen up ARMY / you disabled authors my law school was painful and grotesque so i
returned to the high desert where / ALLEGEDLY // what would
egedly mean / that city was poison and i’ve done what i can do to / escape you it must be
legitimized // it is taking so long / a file that is corrupted / our name LEXICON/
i have a virus in spanish we are cult-cult-cultural peoples / billy lives in prague /
my computer’s bass is electric AND fretless
kathryn l. pringle is an American poet living in Oakland, Ca. She is the author of fault tree (winner of Omindawn’s 1st/2nd book prize selected by CD Wright), RIGHT NEW BIOLOGY (Factory School 2009) and two chapbooks: The Stills (Duration Press) and Temper and Felicity are lovers (TAXT). Her work can also be found in the anthology Conversations at the Wartime Cafe: A Decade of War (Conversations at the Wartime Cafe Press/ WODV Press) and in the anthology I’ll Drown My Book: Conceptual Writing by Women (Les Figues 2012).
[…] Phoebe and Big Bridge. There are some excellent, sweary poems by kathryn l. pringle in Phoebe, “obscenity for the advancement of poetry #6” and “obscenity for the advancement of poetry #7.” I also keep thinking about Emily […]
Every slash between the phrases or the lonely word made me think of trenches, this structure reinforces the sense of multiplicity of events that each line is mentioning. Great poem!