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October 17, 2024 / barton smock

collections, fyi, and also for mine

*All collections are pay what you want. Be sure to include your mailing address in the comments of the order, and be kind...for instance, if you are ordering a 100+ page book of poems, like, $4 is probably not a kindness. Also, all my work is posted online here at kingsoftrain.com

If not comfortable providing a physical address, you can request a PDF copy with an inquiry to bartonsmock@yahoo.com

PRIVATELY SELF-PUBLISHED WORKS 2019 forward
(pay what you want):

Animal Masks On the Floor of the Ocean, 124 pages
poems, June 2019
can be purchased via paypal (bartsmock@gmail.com)
or Venmo @Barton-Smock-2
or CashApp $BartonSmock
or Zelle bartonsmock@yahoo.com

MOTHERLINGS, 52 pages
poems, June 2019
can be purchased via paypal (bartsmock@gmail.com)
or Venmo @Barton-Smock-2
or CashApp $BartonSmock
or Zelle bartonsmock@yahoo.com

an old idea one had of stars, 58 pages
poems, February 2020
can be purchased via paypal (bartsmock@gmail.com)
or Venmo @Barton-Smock-2
or CashApp $BartonSmock
or Zelle bartonsmock@yahoo.com

rocks have the softest shadows, 237 pages
poems, Dec 2020
can be purchased via paypal (bartsmock@gmail.com)
or Venmo: @Barton-Smock-2
or CashApp: $BartonSmock
or Zelle bartonsmock@yahoo.com

untouched in the capital of soon, 187 pages
poems, Sept 2021
can be purchased via paypal (bartsmock@gmail.com)
or Venmo: @Barton-Smock-2
or CashApp: $BartonSmock
or Zelle bartonsmock@yahoo.com

blood to bathe us in its blue past, 217 pages
poems new and selected, May 2022
can be purchased via paypal (bartsmock@gmail.com)
or Venmo: @Barton-Smock-2
or CashApp: $BartonSmock
or Zelle bartonsmock@yahoo.com

apartures, 125 pages
poems, January 2023
can be purchased via paypal (bartsmock@gmail.com)
or Venmo: @Barton-Smock-2
or CashApp: $BartonSmock
or Zelle bartonsmock@yahoo.com

deer as permission to die in ohio, 43 poems
chapbook, April 2023
can be purchased via paypal (bartsmock@gmail.com)
or Venmo: @Barton-Smock-2
or CashApp: $BartonSmock
or Zelle bartonsmock@yahoo.com

naked in dog years, 55 pages
April 2024
can be purchased via paypal (bartsmock@gmail.com)
or Venmo: @Barton-Smock-2
or CashApp: $BartonSmock
or Zelle bartonsmock@yahoo.com

57 Letters to Ethan Hawke or I wanted to stop saying god
August 2024
can be purchased via paypal (bartsmock@gmail.com)
or Venmo @Barton-Smock-2
or CashApp $BartonSmock
or Zelle bartonsmock@yahoo.com

The Crow's Book of Wrists, 193 pages
August 2024
can be purchased via paypal (bartsmock@gmail.com)
or Venmo @Barton-Smock-2
or CashApp $BartonSmock
or Zelle bartonsmock@yahoo.com
October 16, 2024 / barton smock

Saturday, October 19th, 3pm EST, Tim Tim Cheng reads for the ‘I Think I Can’t Speak For Everyone Here’ series

Please join us over Zoom on Saturday, October 19th, at 3pm EST for the next installment of the 'I Think I Can't Speak For Everyone Here' reading series. 

Contact bluejawedsnake@gmail.com for the Zoom info and to sign up for the open mic.

Featured reader is the amazing Tim Tim Cheng!

Tim Tim Cheng is the author of Tapping At Glass (VERVE, 2023), which was a Poetry Society Book of the Year. It explores womanhood, multilingualism and psycho-geography. Her collection The Tattoo Collector (Nine Arches Press, 2024) is forthcoming. It navigates the relationship between the body, ecology and class. She currently lives between Glasgow and London. She also translates between English and Chinese. timtimcheng.com

October 16, 2024 / barton smock

communions

A ghost sets itself on fire with a cigarette once lit to mark the end of emptiness. No one cares about my body. Touch still doesn’t know that skin is the god of touch. I hide my daughter’s mouth in mine and wait for the angel of those on suicide watch to notice my teeth. The ghost is so still it’s looking at hell.      
October 14, 2024 / barton smock

reading, ‘I think I can’t speak for everyone here’ series, Réka Nyitrai, from Saturday 10/12

Check out Réka Nyitrai reading for the series from this past Saturday, 10/12. I need to apologize all over my many selves to all for the technical issues as our internet has been spotty since these recent storms, and I'm not sure why my hotspot attempt was not successful. So, a huge thanks to Genevieve Murphy Smock and Benjamin Niespodziany for stepping in and up to keep the reading on track. 

Because of the tech issues, I didn't get to do my introduction for wonderful writer Réka Nyitrai, so I'll add that here:

I came to Réka's work through some mutual friends, poems on Action Books 'Action Fokus', and then via her collection Moon Flogged. I find Reka’s work to be grounded in the farness of the infrequently familiar, full of palmless predictions that hold odd memorials for the uneven past and I’m excited for you to hear her read.
October 12, 2024 / barton smock

at least on earth I believe in loneliness

In the nightmare, the bee is a light bulb touched by everyone.

Named animals have seen my body.

I don’t have to take this further,
but I’m drunk.

Heaven a search party for the stinger of god.
October 11, 2024 / barton smock

communions

I count the same money and think of my body. I send to a stranger a TikTok of a man crushing dried insects with a red rolling pin. I don’t watch anything anymore that requires sound. The last scream I heard was god’s and I named it god. The stranger messages me twice that they recognize the man. A lonely world, but for kids.
October 9, 2024 / barton smock

trances for scarecrow


I smoke a joint.
Lean
on a horse.

See
a ghost
see
my brother.

Death regrets
thinking
on death. Some

lose babies
to weather
to avoid
violence. Our baby talk

mutes

field recordings
of creatures
taming god.

In a bored
country
ambulance, a shoemaker

guesses
your OnlyFans

password.
Cracks an egg
on the knee
of an angel.
October 8, 2024 / barton smock

communions

I told the older kids it was in my ear. They shook me a few times and took turns looking. I rubbed my jaw as if to mark myself removed from the tender convincing of permanence. To each other, even now, they describe the wasp. Death makes god last longer.
October 7, 2024 / barton smock

responsoria

A violinist puts a knife to the neck of a doll. 
Stop drinking.
October 4, 2024 / barton smock

communions

Teach the baby to suck in its stomach. Go bitemark bald to the burning of tire swings. Pretend you can be nostalgic in America. Do this by having at all times handfuls of woozy spiders that prevent you from making guns of your hands. Do this by drinking. I wasn’t worried but then my phone started working in a dream. In heaven, every mirror is an exit wound.