Anonymous asked: So I've heard that you're also a pretty good prose writer. Ever thought about posting any prose on your blog? Also, do you own a pair of argyle socks?
chaiivee: This issue of Episodic’s theme is ‘Spaces.’ It’s really quite a simple submission we’re looking for: (1) a picture of a space (indoor, outdoor, anything) (2) a poem/ short reflection/ prose story about that space (or a memory there, whatever!) SUBMIT SUBMIT I know you have something lovely to share Boost!
Third Attempt pt. 2
We’re going out of entrances because he who waits despairs, hopping here and there like a dumb bird on a branch - but if you’re going to be up there, at least climb the tree and get me a real coconut! We’re coming in at exits on a high note, growing ‘til it reaches the heavens, and if it isn’t a violin, then it has to be a cello. Put out your claw and start talking about happiness...
Third Attempt pt. 1
What do you think you’re thinking? That the world is just a sphere and we are too many? The last time I did that birds pecked out the eyes of my dreams, and I remembered a wayward stash of crows jutting out of the trees like a taunt. Screw up your courage ‘til it seems nothing to think of night as having a sunrise in it; can you actually look at the glass? what is the...
hbjewell asked: Hey, I really like your poetry! I was wondering if you have any advice on getting poetry out there, so it gets more readers/more followers on tumblr? Also how does the Feedback Project work?
Anonymous asked: classic motorcycles
Easily the best discourse ever had about The Great...
Doug: You don't think the Great Gatsby was lost before he became a magician?
Carrie: He's a magician?
Doug: What the hell else could he be? He's the Great Gatsby!
Poetry might be a mysticism but every time I approach it it flirts away awkwardly like a bird that can’t fly and I’m afraid to pounce it for fear it would confetti itself like a fucking dodo. Why am I even talking about poetry in a poem? My head is empty, so empty, and really I’m trying to be cool like an asymmetrical shirt tuck. But I worry because asymmetrical wings lead to crooked...
I know futility is the size of the bird in my heart whose wings always celebrate the arrival of a now My weakness is that gravity accumulates in seeds blowing about the street until they pile to a paralysis There is no flutter a noun can’t mend into a pile of paralysis I hear the wide world spins itself into a pile of paralysis I also hear you get caught up in chants til you’re...
Hmm, do I dare disturb the universe that is Monday?
Frank throws pebbles into the map if the world and readies himself to ride...– from The Book of Frank by CAConrad
Lit Mags on Tumblr
theaprilreader: onehundreddollars: engl272: Electric Literature’s Recommended Reading, fwriction : review, and Lightning Cake are three literary projects on Tumblr. What other lit mags are on Tumblr? N/A Literary Magazine! We’re about to release our fifth issue. NALiteraryMagazine.tumblr.com The April Reader! We publish at the beginning of every month Yes! Support both NA and...
Anonymous asked: Just wondering, is there an estimated release date for A Literation?
The World Lacks Reversibility
And so does time, which is why my grandma tells me she grew up in an era where indoor toilets weren’t a given and that she remembers how “glorious” her first shower at age 15 was and how she fears the world our kids are growing up in: Make It New and you can shit yourself when you wake to the price of milk or a drone asking to lend a cup of sugar and to put your...
I Wish I Were in the Woods with Joe
zacharylp: 5 May 2013 I wish I were in the woods with Joe penetrated by music from above too drunk to work and, anyway, on the inside. I stand at the window, feet below, open to exactly the elements in the green grass, eyes on the green morning to come, so that the day loses its shape and turns to something named and manageable: a...
I. I motion like a lichen when you ask me what I want; I say don’t disappear, instead fill with a flicker of birds. I’m not going to apologize, I want us to be the first rate animals required in New York but I’m worried about all the claw traps left on the parkway and how infection makes us unable to depart without notice. II. Words like flight are boring and...
cat leth ?????: So last night, after the AMAZING... →
cat: So last night, after the AMAZING Poetry Bomb event, Kevin [thetargetbird], Turner, Keith, Androo, and I got drunk and spent all night playing exquisite corpse - channeling the surrealists of the past and making collaborative poetry. We’ve decided to start a Tumblr Poetry Salon in… Yes this was definitely as awesome as it sounds.
aseriousbibliophile asked: Hey I've been trying to find a place to place some of my poetry online. Is Tumblr a decent place to put it up?
Anonymous asked: BREAK TWO LEGS TONIGHT, tTB!!!!!
Two years ago
I published a poem called What Got You Here. To me, it’s not a particularly interesting poem, and it feels a bit dated. But this poem started the The Target Bird Year, which I never thought I’d finish when I started out, and certainly never thought would lead to me maintaining this as a regular blog. Flash forward another year, and I see this pop up on my dash: a poster for the Poetry Bomb...
The Arsenic is a Memory
To what end can it reach back To childhood’s crawl space and pull Out my old blanket’s rib cage? It may not Be a dead hill to climb but it might As well be; a poison’s half-life goes on forever Even when it stops killing you as fast As you want. Why am I aching so much For so little debris? What small particles, Barely caught by light can I cling to? I’m at a bus...
What Makes You Think I'm Enjoying This?
I say “blue” but mean beautiful looking. Making words imitate living things implies the minorest immortality that isn’t mine but could very well be. Purple stands for “Please, your restful purple little eggs” and there’s got to be a better way to keep the animal in us, because the ghosts aren’t enough. The pink ink stands against the rim of night...
I get hung up on the grotesque Details of knowing how well- Formulated location becomes When it’s your place or mine, And I only have a few things Getting me through: 4 different pens Leaking in my pocket, a thermos Of 6 hour old coffee, sharp sticks To poke myself with when I go Blank at the auction for a grave Yard. Even feeling like a lunch sack Of bones I refuse to be a nomad...
I’m running out of exegeses to mellow out the buzz of tragedy. I’d run 2,600 miles to save you from even another missing eyelash. What’s a wish for if we can’t drink away Mondays for happy reasons — waking up is already a bummer enough. I’m sorry for blacking out on the T and arguing with the world for trying to push me underground; I just wanted it to feel boisterous as Boylston when we...
I almost never rewrite poems, but this one got some pretty good comments in Dottie Lasky’s workshop, so here’s my second stab at it. Positive sounds must have their negative, does that bind The barely northern lights to shine over some Chicago I know not what they ask but maybe A star exists that isn’t thrusting towards us ass-first Blowback to the communion of its...
kaznguyen asked: Hello, are you a bird?
waldojack asked: Hello,are you a writer ?
I notice myself, then others notice me, and that I’ve fallen on a syllable. What do I know about this? It’s an idea, and ideas are just time living in the future, no? Clouds did not have names a couple hundred years ago, but what is left to do now? I swear I didn’t notice the light shining through me on the streets, at least not now because the reason is nothing much more...
Congratulations Issue 2 Contributors!
aliterationmag: The long wait is over! Issue 2 of A Literation is now in production, and we’re pleased to announce and congratulate the following fine poets and writers, whose literary offerings will grace our digital pages. If your piece wasn’t selected for this issue, we encourage you to try again next issue. Submissions for our third issue will open sometime within the next two months....
When you wake up as early as I do reality doesn’t set in until around bedtime. There’s then a life where my kids will force me to put money in a swear jar for every bad word: duty, all, same, brave, free, and cool (we ain’t real cool ‘til everyone says it without a billiard smack tremble giving fear away). I’ll tell them to keep dancing until it’s called...
I approached perfection once because the moon was doing half- assed work, but it saw me and it’s fast — I got a picture to put in the gift shop of hollow aspiration. I also bought a book there called “War: Between Who We Can Be and Who We Are (is the Greatest),” and after the first page I dreamed I was a poem surrounded by a bed of trees unwilling to break lines...
The Goat: The Spirit of the Stairs →
dtwocubed: a pitcher of sangria with a hole in her womb, smaller than the circumference of sewing thread, and every hour that i am away she stitches another hatch mark in her skin, she loses an ounce of wine through that portal in her umbra until i can cradle the back of her head in the palm of my…
It occurs to me much too late That we can do anything In fact, if we’re willing To kill our particles’ possibilities To sit everywhere at once And smoke from soft packs (& you’ve changed The outcome just by reading this). Are we happier trying to make things Like piles and piles of moon- Light real because eventually We won’t be? “Young lady,...
All of the oxygen had vanished from the desert and my old man looked at me as if he suddenly recognized me from somewhere and everything went plumph like a soft wall collapsing and if I paid close enough attention I could hear birds singing from within the dying cacti. He asked me who kept vigil over Nogales’ body, and what was the size of the bull she had to leap into to...
ivyofthe420 asked: I never heard of that but there is a fungus hat splits ants heads & makes them like a cannibal after it kills them, so they r zombie ants. lol.... not really a question, just had to say it.
Anonymous asked: is there a fungus that speaks to you?