so, some new things. restless or reckless. I’m the terrible person that has probably already told you, or asked. it’s okay. I had this fear as a child that my belly button was the size of an eye for a reason.
I. {isacoustic*}
so, yeah, this small thing called {isacoustic*} is here https://isacoustic.wordpress.com/ and by being here I mean it is moving and if you know someone who is still or if that someone is you, please go there with love and leave some or send some. I am stoked by the work that is there, that has been offered, and I am trying not be light about it. also, submissions are open always and can be sent to: isacousticsubmissions@gmail.com / send 3-7 in the body of the email or docx, etc…payment for unsolicited work is 15$ unless otherwise negotiated…contributors also receive one copy of the self-published journal they appear…
View original post 367 more words
flyless wall. box of baby clothes
in an empty dream
so famously
daughter
she is too young
to smoke
–
her silence
in the shorthand
of my mouth
remains
born
–
there is no dark doorknob that ain’t the fist of her brother, no
madwoman
boiling
a deaf
snake
–
she takes it outside
her made-up song
thru January 25th, 20% off all print books AND free mail shipping (or 50% off ground) at Lulu with coupon code of SHIPSAVE20
mine, self-published, are here:
http://www.lulu.com/spotlight/acolyteroad
~~~~
some recent writings:
[ideations]
the elderly
our unpraised
orphans
with healed
and self-taught
toys
~~~~
cancer is a pop gun and when I say missing I mean her body was seen by the lonely / her body / was having children but only those / we’d seen / in photos / I mean bus
of a christian
swim team
~~~~
when cooking, mama says she is burning the uniform of the country I was dragged through. she knows better than to come from rib. cheek, maybe. or fishhook.
~~~~
scar to my wound, this man believes in god. the last thing I learn is what I know. Franz Wright’s final book is called The Toy Throne. I understand this man when…
View original post 236 more words
like an invisible woman born with a glass eye, he will (hymn) that love is his mother now and he will not hymn that love is a microscope courting the lost look of a barium drinker and he will not hymn bombs and he will not hymn that silence is merely a father’s diary of absence and he will not hymn the names of the anonymously lighthearted and he will not hymn the drive-ins frequented by your nonimmigrant god and he will (hymn) further that her blood be a flagless ghost inside any body not placed on a blown off door
made available some PDFs of my work, as well as the first volume of isacoustic*, at:
CONTRIBUTORS for {isacoustic*} volume first:
Jon Cone
/
Adam Hughes
//
Leanne Drapeau
///
Agnieszka Mauch
////
Amelia Kester
/////
Brian Dawson
//////
Ed Churchouse
///////
Jill Chan
/////////
Arvind Joshi
/////////
Gayle McCreery
//////////
Robert Okaji
///////////
Kelli Allen
////////////
Daniel Paul Marshall
/////////////
Charlotte Hamrick
//////////////
Nicholas Christian
////////////////
Tim Miller
/////////////////
VOLUME FIRST: http://www.lulu.com/shop/barton-smock/isacoustic-volume-first/paperback/product-23484069.html
~
recent contributors at {isacoustic*}:
Darren C Demaree
//////////////////
Eleanor Gray
a found grief in these eggs that scar the pan
–
moon
gives mom
a toothache
–
if you can, bed hunger.
that sleepy
mirror…
–
not news
to your double
my death
