tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32122675207934126832012-01-21T10:38:56.786-05:00shannanoreply@blogger.comBlogger2941100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3212267520793412683.post-5967541579995169612011-12-25T00:00:00.018-05:002012-01-09T23:49:26.124-05:00

Amy De’Ath was born in Suffolk, England in 1985. She studied at the University of East Anglia, UK, and in Philadelphia, US, before moving to Australia and then London. Her publications include Caribou (Bad Press, 2011) Erec & Enide (Salt, 2010), and Andromeda / The World Works for Me (Crater Press, 2010). Her work is featured in a number of UK anthologies published this year. For three years

DUSIEhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06216362537300575353noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3212267520793412683.post-54363119712215042312011-12-25T00:00:00.017-05:002011-12-25T02:59:10.264-05:00

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Nada Gordon is the author of Folly, V. Imp, Are Not Our Lowing Heifers Sleeker than Night-Swollen Mushrooms?, foriegnn bodie, Swoon, and Scented Rushes. A founding member of the Flarf Collective, she practices poetry, song, dance, dressmaking, and image manipulation as deep entertainment. She blogs at ululate.[Click post title for audio.]

DUSIEhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06216362537300575353noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3212267520793412683.post-69547422942458512792011-12-25T00:00:00.010-05:002011-12-25T00:00:09.373-05:00

Originally from Brooklyn, New York, T.A. Noonan was raised in the South. She is the author of two hybrid-genre collections, The Bone Folders (Sundress Publications) and Petticoat Government (Gold Wake Press), as well as the chapbooks Darjeeling (Ahadada Books) and Balm (Flaming Giblet Press). Her writing has appeared in Ninth Letter, Verse Daily, The Superstition Review, RHINO, specs, Phoebe, and

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American expatriate Carrie Etter has lived in the UK since 2001 andpublished two collections: The Tethers (Seren, 2009) and Divining forStarters (Shearsman, 2011); the poem here comes from the latter. Shealso edited Infinite Difference: Other Poetries by UK Women Poets(Shearsman, 2010).

DUSIEhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06216362537300575353noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3212267520793412683.post-39477801781350894982011-12-25T00:00:00.006-05:002011-12-25T00:00:00.440-05:00

Catherine Wagner's latest book is My New Job (Fence 2009). City Lights will publish Nervous Device in 2012. She lives in Oxford, Ohio.

DUSIEhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06216362537300575353noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3212267520793412683.post-44178418811609255202011-12-25T00:00:00.004-05:002011-12-25T00:00:04.752-05:00

Kate Durbin is a Los Angeles-based writer and performance artist. She is author of The Ravenous Audience (Akashic Books, 2009), E! Entertainment (Blanc Press, diamond edition, forthcoming), ABRA (Zg Press, forthcoming w/ Amaranth Borsuk), as well as the conceptual fashion magazine The Fashion Issue (Zg Press, forthcoming), and five chapbooks, including, most recently, E! Entertainment (Insert

DUSIEhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06216362537300575353noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3212267520793412683.post-44963466567934672712011-12-25T00:00:00.001-05:002011-12-25T00:00:05.476-05:00

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Ivy Alvarez is the author of Mortal, a book of poems that examines the relationship between Dee and Seph — modern-day reinventions of Demeter and Persephone — and how the spectre of breast cancer affects them.

DUSIEhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06216362537300575353noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3212267520793412683.post-24147609931669145162011-12-23T00:00:00.001-05:002011-12-23T00:00:04.800-05:00

Gina Myers is the author of A Model Year (Coconut Books, 2009) and several chapbooks, including False Spring (forthcoming from Spooky Girlfriend Press).

DUSIEhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06216362537300575353noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3212267520793412683.post-28501669743888237492011-12-22T00:00:00.000-05:002011-12-22T00:00:00.821-05:00

Danielle Pafunda is the author of several collections of poetry including Iatrogenic: Their Testiomines (Noemi Press), My Zorba (Bloof Books), and the forthcoming Manhater (Dusie Press Books 2012).

DUSIEhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06216362537300575353noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3212267520793412683.post-56277454702904487802011-12-21T00:00:00.003-05:002011-12-21T01:28:24.437-05:00

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Kaia Sand is the author of Interval (Edge) Remember to Wave (Tinfish) and Landscapes of Dissent with Jules Boykoff. She lives with her family in Oregon. [Click post title for audio.]

DUSIEhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06216362537300575353noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3212267520793412683.post-61046229774136435302011-12-19T00:00:00.002-05:002011-12-19T00:00:00.354-05:00

Pattie McCarthy is the author of Table Alphabetical of Hard Words(2010), Verso (2004), and bk of (h)rs (2002), all from Apogee Press. She is also the author of L&O (2011), from Little Red Leave e-editions. Her work has appeared recently in 20012, Elective Affinities, Lana Turner, and elsewhere. She is a 2011 Pew Fellow in the arts; teaches literature and writing at Temple University; and lives

DUSIEhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06216362537300575353noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3212267520793412683.post-83650854884590205222011-12-18T00:00:00.000-05:002011-12-18T00:00:01.272-05:00

Jess Rowan's work has appeared in West Wind Review, Sprung Formal, NOÖ Journal, Phoebe, etc, and with Maurice Burford in the collaborative chapbook Prithee (Abraham Lincoln Press). She is also a shiny new Editorial Assistant at Coconut. [Click post title for audio.]

DUSIEhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06216362537300575353noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3212267520793412683.post-37732282585270089792011-12-17T00:00:00.002-05:002011-12-17T00:00:00.351-05:00

Wanda Phipps is a writer/performer and author of six books including Field of Wanting: Poems of Desire and Wake-Up Calls: 66 Morning Poems. Her poetry has been translated into Ukrainian, Hungarian, Arabic, Bangla and Galician. Her website is: mindhoney.com. [Click post title for audio.]

DUSIEhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06216362537300575353noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3212267520793412683.post-80430480931212011992011-12-16T00:00:00.002-05:002011-12-16T16:17:47.774-05:00

Daniela Olszewska is the author of two full-length collections of poetry, Citizen J (Artifice Books, forthcoming) and cloudfang : : cakedirt (Horse Less Press, forthcoming). She sits on Switchback Books' Board of Directors and serves as Associate Poetry Editor of H_NGM_N. Daniela is pursuing her MFA at the University of Alabama, where she teaches creative writing in conjunction with The

DUSIEhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06216362537300575353noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3212267520793412683.post-84424338915183517262011-12-15T00:00:00.001-05:002011-12-15T00:00:01.480-05:00

Kristine Snodgrass’ collaborative work with Neil de la Flor and Maureen Seaton is forthcoming in a book, TWO THIEVES & A LIAR (JackLeg Press 2012). She lives in Tallahassee, Florida. [Click post title for audio.]

DUSIEhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06216362537300575353noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3212267520793412683.post-26508289875790175362011-12-14T00:00:00.005-05:002011-12-14T10:10:46.104-05:00

Susana Gardner's second full-length collection, HERSO An Heirship in Waves was published by Black Radish Books this fall. She lives in Zürich.[Click post title for audio.]

DUSIEhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06216362537300575353noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3212267520793412683.post-47122133727037331882011-12-13T00:00:00.000-05:002011-12-13T00:00:01.094-05:00

Laynie Browne's most recent books include Roseate, Points of Gold (Dusie 2011) and The Desires of Letters (Counterpath, 2010). [Click post title for audio.]

DUSIEhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06216362537300575353noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3212267520793412683.post-87731729086475893812011-12-12T00:00:00.000-05:002011-12-11T20:37:19.637-05:00

Kate Greenstreet's books are The Last 4 Things and casesensitive, both from Ahsahta Press. Her site is at kickingwind.com.[Click post title for audio.]

DUSIEhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06216362537300575353noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3212267520793412683.post-19315796058016039272011-12-11T00:00:00.000-05:002011-12-11T00:00:04.704-05:00

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Elizabeth Treadwell is the author of two books of prose and five of poetry,including Chantry (Chax, 2004) and Birds & Fancies (Shearsman, 2007).Her long poem, Virginia or the mud-flap girl, is forthcoming from Dusie in 2012; and a section of it, Ancient Celebrity Tune-rot, will appear as a Least Weasel chapbook in fall 2011. Treadwell's work has appeared in a number of anthologies, most recently

DUSIEhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06216362537300575353noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3212267520793412683.post-20493108173106753282011-12-09T00:00:00.000-05:002011-12-09T00:00:03.611-05:00

Elisa Gabbert is the author of The French Exit (Birds LLC) and Thanks for Sending the Engine (Kitchen Press). Recent work can be found in Another Chicago Magazine, Denver Quarterly, Open Letters Monthly, and Sentence. She lives in Denver and blogs at The French Exit. [Click post title for audio.]

DUSIEhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06216362537300575353noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3212267520793412683.post-6731788235362921832011-12-08T00:00:00.000-05:002011-12-07T22:03:30.144-05:00

Rob Ray makes site specific electronic installations, wondrous public games and experimental videos. He has recently relocated to Los Angeles, CA from Chicago via Rensselaer's Electronic Arts MFA Program in Troy, NY.[Click post title for audio.]

DUSIEhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06216362537300575353noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3212267520793412683.post-79738394098687961342011-12-07T00:00:00.000-05:002011-12-07T08:04:53.170-05:00

Camilo Roldán is a poet and translator living in Brooklyn, NY. He is the author of a chapbook of translations, Amílkar U., Nadaísta in Translation (These Signals Press), and his poems have appeared in Metazen, Leveler, Lungfull! and Pank. [Click post title for audio.]

DUSIEhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06216362537300575353noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3212267520793412683.post-70909191452410484482011-12-06T00:00:00.004-05:002011-12-06T07:52:58.563-05:00

Megan Kaminski's first book of poetry, Desiring Map, is forthcoming from Coconut Books (2012). She is also the author of five chapbooks of poetry, most recently Collection (Dusie 2011). Her poems have recently appeared in American Letters & Commentary, CutBank, Denver Quarterly, Third Coast, and other journals. She teaches creative writing and literature at the University of Kansas. [

DUSIEhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06216362537300575353noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3212267520793412683.post-32739808546847084892011-12-05T00:00:00.000-05:002011-12-04T18:03:08.410-05:00

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Deborah Poe is the author of the poetry collections Elements (Stockport Flats Press 2010), Our Parenthetical Ontology (Custom Words 2008) and several chapbooks--most recently a four-part edition excerpted from her manuscript "the last will be stone, too," as part of the Dusie Kollektiv (5), Poe's work is forthcoming or has recently appeared in Peep/show, Bone Bouquet, Trickhouse, No Contest,

DUSIEhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06216362537300575353noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3212267520793412683.post-32984976697143211762011-12-03T16:25:00.000-05:002011-12-03T16:56:23.856-05:00

Lina ramona Vitkauskas (Lithuanian-American-Canadian), b. 1973. Selected by former Pulitzer Prize-finalist, Brenda Hillman, to receive the Poetry Center of Chicago’s Juried Reading Award in 2009. Author of poetry book THE RANGE OF YOUR AMAZING NOTHING (Ravenna Press, 2010) and chapbook Failed Star Spawns Planet/Star (dancing girl press, 2006). Finalist – Summer Literary Seminars Poetry Contest (

DUSIEhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06216362537300575353noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3212267520793412683.post-7659497186394430012011-12-02T17:10:00.001-05:002011-12-14T10:23:40.166-05:00

Shanna Compton is the author of For Girls & Others, Down Spooky, Gamers, and The Blank Verge, forthcoming from Bloof Books in spring 2012. "Sometime I'll perfect my adoration" is excerpted from that collection and originally appeared in the Awl.[Click post title for audio.]

DUSIEhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06216362537300575353noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3212267520793412683.post-38851498813926730092011-12-01T18:15:00.001-05:002011-12-14T10:24:55.332-05:00

Anne Boyer is the author of My Common Heart, Joan, The 2000s, Ma Vieen Bling, Anne Boyer's Good Apocalypse, Selected Dreams with a Note onPhrenology, and The Romance of Happy Workers. She lives in Kansas.[Click post title for audio.]

DUSIEhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06216362537300575353noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3212267520793412683.post-18824412677596735772011-08-18T10:55:00.002-04:002011-08-18T10:59:05.480-04:00

In Aporia: The Annual Akilah Oliver Memorial Reading September 12, 2011 at 7pm Lang Café, Eugene Lang College 65 W 11th street, NYC The annual Akilah Oliver Memorial Reading honors the memory of Lang professor Akilah Oliver, a radical poet, feminist, and activist. The first of this annual reading series, this event will feature the work of work of Oliver's contemporaries Julian Talamantez

carahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08258116406061164371noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3212267520793412683.post-17900603005093623782011-07-21T11:21:00.002-04:002011-07-21T11:26:31.242-04:00

HOT TEXTS: Tuesday July 26 Curated by local poet activists Krystal Languell and Emily Skillings, HOT TEXTS is a new reading series in Brooklyn, New York that celebrates innovative writing rooted in the body, desire, sexual politics and the erotic sphere. HOT TEXTS is an extension of the Belladonna* Collaborative. Performers for the evening include: R. Erica Doyle, Lila Zemborain, Susana Gardner

carahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08258116406061164371noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3212267520793412683.post-8007557427829122492011-05-31T12:45:00.004-04:002011-06-06T23:37:32.719-04:00

SEAM RIPPER: Women on Textual & Sartorial StyleIntroduction by Kate Durbin | "Revenge of the Slip Dress Sluts"Conclusion by Becca Klaver | "We Feel Sartorial Joy": Last Thoughts on SEAM RIPPERContributorsAna Božičević | Broke Poets and Spring Fashion: Things More than $1Becca Klaver | OUR STYLE: A CollageJillian Mukavetz | fabric girlStacy Gnall | An Abridged History of CostumeMichelle Detorie |

beccahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11261837432902612470noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3212267520793412683.post-88587063019007270782011-05-23T22:45:00.008-04:002011-05-24T14:02:28.979-04:00

We would be walking down the street in the poetrycity. Gauze would be everywhere. The day would be big, halting, gracious, revocable, cheap. We’d be the she-dandies in incredibly voluptuous jackets ribboning back from our waists, totally lined in pure silk, also in pure humming, and we’d be heading into the buildings with knowledge – that is, ephemeral knowledge, like leafage or sleeves or

beccahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11261837432902612470noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3212267520793412683.post-2845445044218181882011-05-23T22:07:00.001-04:002011-05-24T13:34:33.384-04:00

by Ana Božičević I've been reading with delight all the poets' fashion-takes here on Delirious Hem, in wake of Oprah's poets-wear-spring-fashion piece, where beautiful poets were depicted wearing thousands of dollars in clothes. (Full disclosure: I was one of the, apparently, dozens of poets who did the casting call for Oprah's fashion thing, and witnessed the pristine cafeteria of the Hearst

beccahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11261837432902612470noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3212267520793412683.post-23165655715067923862011-05-23T22:03:00.000-04:002011-05-23T22:03:00.669-04:00

by Becca KlaverI win Most Original Style, but I get it all from you.The shock, the prank, the glamour.The British spelling, the American, our own secret.A freak & I learn how to use it.How else would you know me in a square of blonde?Four heads bobbing & bleaching.I pick the box reads Wild Fire.Rinse thoroughly, alternateen smirkingstraight into the principal’s office.He says wipe that lipstick

beccahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11261837432902612470noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3212267520793412683.post-8272601433057226812011-05-23T21:57:00.001-04:002011-05-23T21:57:00.773-04:00

by Jillian Mukavetzface figured masks. of disaster. of laughter.ordinary cloaks, roast grass.seed blend weedsand shy pleurisy..weaves the wind, metal detectors and missing keys: fabric girl.love is sartorial.sheared mascarasplit time, wrists, and sealed plethora.puzzled palmsreview only to viewpressedmeanings in syllabus..smeared, trust, letters. a girl audition in moral expletives.fabric

beccahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11261837432902612470noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3212267520793412683.post-7128845649468284112011-05-23T21:26:00.001-04:002011-05-25T17:46:46.612-04:00

by Stacy GnallII. Ancient GreekTo move as through a bloom:the mode by which bodies are draped.IX. BaroqueLook at this beribboned bird, his indoor richness.See how slow he swaggers, his asymmetry casual.You will have heard his myth:Oh, oh! His thrust. And oh! His plume.His ego. His garland halfway to Apollo.X. RococoA fishing for rocks and shellsfrom the frothy shores of heads.XII. French

beccahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11261837432902612470noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3212267520793412683.post-39612444065525508672011-05-04T13:19:00.003-04:002011-05-04T13:33:20.101-04:00

by Michelle DetorieClick to enlarge:headless women and a tiger in a shop window on melroseweftBio: Michelle Detorie lives in Goleta, CA where she edits Hex Presse and Womb. Current work includes the Poetry Booth (a recurring public art installation) and “Women & Animals: Are they Real?” (a poetic research project).

beccahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11261837432902612470noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3212267520793412683.post-18673016707902801572011-05-01T23:59:00.012-04:002011-05-01T23:59:00.990-04:00

by Kate DurbinN O BIKINIorI WOULD RATHER GO NAKED THAN LET OPRAH DRESS MEbrought to you by the letter O!This is the Story of O. O is a good letter. When we are surprised in a visceral way, like an orgasm when we are suckling our babies, our mouths go O. We O when someone we love touches us in a place no one has before. When our tight jeans rub our clits in the right way we O. This is what Brooke

KDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18311275986230831208noreply@blogger.com20tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3212267520793412683.post-12532311119080466652011-05-01T23:59:00.009-04:002011-05-01T23:59:00.420-04:00

by Catherine DalyGrade School:What I wore: A tricorner hat, for the bicentennial, and France, and then after Marianne Moore.A green, red, white, and black plaid uniform. In cold weather, we could only wear green pants underneath the uniform.I wore a red sash around my waist, in homage to 1984.Famolare shoes.What I made:A project about the planetary ages on a rollup window shade, so that as you

KDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18311275986230831208noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3212267520793412683.post-91695491722145718432011-05-01T23:59:00.008-04:002011-05-01T23:59:00.709-04:00

by Angie KirbyThe following is a found poem from a marvelous article online about Diana Vreeland's bathroom memos to Vogue staff.Diana in the BathI do not hear from anyonea suggestion of a faceor something that would be suitable.We are on the verge of a drastic emergency.I speak of this very oftenand as soon as I stop speakingthe pearls disappear.No one has takenthe slightest interest in freckles

KDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18311275986230831208noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3212267520793412683.post-35533692562314118972011-05-01T23:59:00.006-04:002011-05-01T23:59:00.149-04:00

by Cristián Flores García What Can Poetry Teach?It taught me to fashionably dress down. Feel comfort in my own words,even if on first impression I believe these a size too small. It’s a lie if you believe an active verb is exempt of attractiveness predicaments or that a noun alone can’t hang as perfect pendant.Also a lie, that

KDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18311275986230831208noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3212267520793412683.post-88792552373653244292011-05-01T13:59:00.005-04:002011-05-01T16:09:54.130-04:00

by Arielle GreenbergNew BrasI had to go buy some new bras because my old bras were all stretched out. Also, my old breasts were all stretched out. I’d been pregnant then breastfeeding then not breastfeeding then pregnant then full of milk but not breastfeeding then not pregnant but big and now I was slightly smaller and my bras were exhausted. Also my breasts.It’s important to assume the

KDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18311275986230831208noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3212267520793412683.post-37609238950337491692011-04-25T02:30:00.004-04:002011-04-25T14:59:51.631-04:00

by Marisa CrawfordWe were going dancing in Northampton and I had this flimsy, sheer gray t-shirt with exposed seams and I wanted to wear it with only a black bra under it but you didn’t get it.It was my birthday so I wore a fake pink rose corsage that was mom’s in junior high pinned to my black “wife beater” but you didn’t get that either.Katie said I could have the ungodly huge sparkly leopard

beccahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11261837432902612470noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3212267520793412683.post-22838417178461309072011-04-25T02:26:00.002-04:002011-04-25T14:41:11.530-04:00

by Danielle PafundaClick to enlarge:Bio: Danielle Pafunda is author of Iatrogenic: Their Testimonies (Noemi Press), My Zorba (Bloof Books), Pretty Young Thing (Soft Skull Press), and the forthcoming Manhater (Dusie Press Books). She's an assistant professor of gender & women's studies and English at the University of Wyoming.

beccahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11261837432902612470noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3212267520793412683.post-10752587827214092772011-04-25T02:24:00.000-04:002011-04-25T02:24:00.085-04:00

by Khadijah QueenPants: Los AngelesIn 1990 my sister decided she hated the way jeans dug into her belly when she sat down, the waistband as good as a cinch a hundred years before. She started shopping in the men's section at the Levi's store on Robertson & Pico, buying pants that hung an inch below her navel, adding a wide leather belt to close the gape above her ass crack, paired them with

beccahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11261837432902612470noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3212267520793412683.post-37753937544006371732011-04-25T02:22:00.000-04:002011-04-25T02:22:00.514-04:00

by Jackie WangThere is a story written by Zora Neale Hurston about a recalcitrant little brown girl who cannot stop dancing. Little Isis Watts. Also know as Isis the Joyful, as her presence is haloed. Movement is her way of being in the world. Her grandma gives her tasks and chores and she does them begrudgingly, her body unable to sit still or be disciplined. Hers is a body that refuses to

beccahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11261837432902612470noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3212267520793412683.post-50678003032005066602011-04-25T02:20:00.005-04:002011-04-26T23:26:44.717-04:00

by Dolly LemkeOrsino’s first shirtHad never seen such cuts before,cut long and narrow, cut pant leg,cut cuffs, sliced buttonholes.Slid arm right through, grabbing rail,writhing down that hoary cavern,tucking bottom roughly.The name of man or womancan kill at first glance,can die over one timeBase line accosted on railroadby streetcar, in lamplight.Shirts over-starched,sliced straight down the

beccahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11261837432902612470noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3212267520793412683.post-69415548202143100622011-04-25T02:10:00.000-04:002011-04-25T02:10:00.334-04:00

by Yvette ThomasTry: it is hard to be content, the arches in the feet having collapsed, the curves in the spine having reversed, the bones having lost their density. It calls for an exoskeleton, a silken panoply, a dream of escape, the plaid of dismay, the linen of engagement, the armor of certainty.The mind afflicted and the mind that inflicts. Inflects.In the poems there is a lot of white

beccahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11261837432902612470noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3212267520793412683.post-54515604222924204372011-04-25T02:00:00.002-04:002011-04-25T04:13:18.386-04:00

by Amy BoutellWhen I was a kid, I used to draw pictures of women and girls and design their clothes; on the back of the sheet of paper, I would name the characters and write a paragraph about their outfits and their lives. Two decades later, I’m midway through my first novel which is set in the world of vintage fashion in Los Angeles, and I realize that what I’m doing now is essentially the same

beccahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11261837432902612470noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3212267520793412683.post-27050925963384245102011-04-25T01:58:00.001-04:002011-04-25T14:20:07.002-04:00

by Anna Lena PhillipsEach weekday, I go to work at an office. It is a nice office, a pleasant one with pleasant people, and it is more laid-back than many. Still there is the expectation that its occupants will dress in keeping with a vaguely defined set of conventions, tossed together under the name “business casual.”No one says, in any practicable way, what this is; or, rather, there are so

beccahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11261837432902612470noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3212267520793412683.post-54239068996810329872011-04-25T01:50:00.001-04:002011-04-25T01:50:00.352-04:00

by Nicole SteinbergA friend writes: If I didn't already know where you live I would totally believe that you live in a dressing room.I carry a vivid memory of my mother in a dingy plastic chair, stretching fabric taut around my rounded torso with her own plump fingers, trying to coax a small brass button into its intended hole. I recall her frustrated sigh of failure, the look in her eyes that

beccahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11261837432902612470noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3212267520793412683.post-54665065564384647682011-04-25T01:40:00.002-04:002011-04-25T13:50:20.345-04:00

by Jessica BozekThese photos represent my literal take on the relationship between writing and fashion. I sew because I need a tangible craft; because preparing fabric, cutting out pattern pieces, stitching, pressing, and ripping out seams that go awry is a process that I'm not making up as I go along; because it takes more time to construct a placket than it does to write a poem and that makes

beccahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11261837432902612470noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3212267520793412683.post-75199910037780754572011-04-25T01:30:00.000-04:002011-04-25T01:30:01.051-04:00

by Lily LadewigCRESPINEThis was a kind of hairnetand was a somewhat startling14th century innovation.Previous ages had consideredvisible female hair immoral.Next add a “nebula” headdresscomposed of several layersand resembling a muff. Extremelysquare, the face being, as it were,enclosed in a frame.BLACK BERETThe black cat curls up and turnsitself into a beret. I still coo at itas I did before.I

beccahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11261837432902612470noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3212267520793412683.post-90929400781254843292011-04-25T01:27:00.005-04:002011-04-25T04:17:54.944-04:00

by Jennifer TamayoCUSTOM & CLOTHINGDRESS IS METHODOLOGYIN THE FIRST STAGES OF WRITING, I WRITE NAKEDIN THE FINAL STAGES OF EDITING, I PUT ON A FINE VINTAGE DRESS AND ROLL ON THE GROUNDI’M BEING DISTANT HERE:THE THING I’M TRYING TO GET UNDER MY SKIN AND INTO THE WORK

beccahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11261837432902612470noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3212267520793412683.post-27484270839559735252011-04-25T01:11:00.000-04:002011-04-25T01:11:56.776-04:00

by Danielle RoderickSteel blinders, made of metal that dusts. Helmet that fits under hair, heavy enough to keep head down. Same sooty metal. Collar of sleeping cat. Girdle of cake icing, bright and sloppy. Hose from an egg bowed to every morning. Hose struggled into, every morning. Begrudged for the lost shape of the toes, the new webs. Sitting and cased. No bra. A good suit will blanket all

beccahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11261837432902612470noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3212267520793412683.post-47586086049294600352011-04-25T01:10:00.005-04:002011-04-25T14:14:53.710-04:00

by jojo LazarHOT GIRL ON GIRL ACTIONI learn offstage that the waifof a contortionist is only eighteen;a culinary student, strangelyenough. She is amiss, all bones,her shadow a snake-charmingsliver. Counting her ribs,I feel my corset cut,draw the line between physicalprowess and the brainy girl burlesque."What do you do?" she asks.I fold a sonnet into my thigh high,reply, “A phony vaudeville

beccahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11261837432902612470noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3212267520793412683.post-38579734668478702432011-04-25T01:01:00.001-04:002011-04-25T01:02:55.545-04:00

by Susan YountNever mind that the manager instructed you to wear solid black or navy socks. Hey little pistol. You'll even forget the four fat fucks at table five. Want to make some extra cash? You got the round table tonight and in these smokin' socks you'll serve chicken-fried-steak, mashed potatoes and sawmill gravy scintillatingly. Let me be your pepper you salty centerfold. You. The star

beccahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11261837432902612470noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3212267520793412683.post-33515918096058666052011-04-25T00:04:00.002-04:002011-04-26T23:35:47.128-04:00

by Angela Veronica WongStyle has never been incidental to me. Perhaps it was spending ten years as a uniformed student, where clothing very clearly indicated a where and what you belonged to, if not a class, a privilege, and a mentality. Additionally likely, the love of clothing and development of a style is something passed down from my mother, who received it from her mother, an amazing woman

beccahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11261837432902612470noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3212267520793412683.post-79524203074621054462011-04-18T06:23:00.004-04:002011-04-18T06:29:04.455-04:00

by Daisy RockwellWedding DressAs a child, I drew incessantly. My parents, both artists, were perplexed, and eventually frustrated, by the fact that all my drawings were of beautiful, shapely women laden with accessories and wearing elaborate outfits. By high school, I had abandoned this subject matter, but sought another artistic preoccupation in vain. It was perhaps because of this loss of focus

KDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18311275986230831208noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3212267520793412683.post-45594512006067419102011-04-18T06:14:00.003-04:002011-04-18T06:17:21.220-04:00

by Cole CohenWhy am I so fascinated by divas? Is it research for a rebirth? A crackling chrysalis split down the back like an ill fitting prom dress, revealing wings of wet pulp; shivering like a Chihuahua until the blood funnels through stiff tiny insect veins and I unfurl my majesty. Is there a term limit for divas? Is my application lost in the mail? Am I late for the coronation? Of course I

KDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18311275986230831208noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3212267520793412683.post-69390483428832299442011-04-18T05:47:00.005-04:002011-04-18T06:12:26.132-04:00

by Caolan MaddenFRILLWHIPPERa photo essay/personality testQ: Would you believe that every morning I wake up in my black lace brassière and smudge the kohl-black sleep out of my eyes and stumble into my study where I snap open my mother's sea-green Viking sewing machine and sort of cast about me (in that green sea) for any old material--a towel, a carpet, a J Crew catalog, a couple of takeout

KDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18311275986230831208noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3212267520793412683.post-73541837731697219982011-04-18T04:41:00.004-04:002011-04-18T04:50:11.202-04:00

by Allison LayfieldWhat Is It, and How Do You Use It I will answer when you learn with your fingers teasing teeth pulling satin from skin us girls playing sneaky with the luger from the underwear drawer it is a matter of manners you will discover My Little guns when you master motion winks lips ungloving your hands we call it Burlesque when you learn how to other people grow in

KDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18311275986230831208noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3212267520793412683.post-77259299967757713922011-04-18T04:24:00.006-04:002011-04-18T15:08:27.518-04:00

by Andrea Quinlan"I am a very MODERN woman. I like Life in my clothes,” Katherine Mansfield wrote to Ida Baker. Mansfield is just one of the women of New Zealand's past who loved clothes. I think about them as I finger the vintage clothes in my wardrobe. All these pieces of women's lives. A mended hole here, a faint stain there. Lipstick and traces of perfume. A fashion magazine with drafts of

KDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18311275986230831208noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3212267520793412683.post-73857963504856041992011-04-18T03:47:00.009-04:002011-04-18T15:15:32.688-04:00

by Daniela Olszewskawhen i spent $[redacted] on a dress, some friends sniffed that my money could have been put to better use. they said i had no business supporting this industry dedicated to keeping the uber-rich prettily adorned. when i spent $[redacted] on a painting , some of these same friends congratulated me. they said it was good that i was in the business of supporting this industry

KDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18311275986230831208noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3212267520793412683.post-42542680653808104202011-04-18T03:18:00.008-04:002011-04-18T15:16:22.039-04:00

by carina finnthis is the girl of the momentthe look of the moment is campesino chic. all the lavaliers can be used as ammunition. the word of the moment is functionality. the girl of the moment should be unable to sit. this is the essential pose for spring. all of the condiments are crinoline.this is the year of the magazine. matte is the new glossy! liner is the new kiss. campfire badges adorn

KDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18311275986230831208noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3212267520793412683.post-56243168519306702792011-04-18T02:49:00.002-04:002011-04-18T03:17:16.367-04:00

by Amanda MonteiFour Poems1.Today they announced that the failure age is twenty-nine. That for women it comes three decades earlier than it does for men. “Why is it that people think they understand their bodies?” she says. “How can you know that your insides yearn for salad?” He is on the bearskin rug in the corner of the apartment, eating a violin bit by bit, and yearning for a salad. “Like the

KDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18311275986230831208noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3212267520793412683.post-64160367980191201752011-04-16T16:31:00.006-04:002011-04-18T02:49:14.357-04:00

by Amaranth BorsukIDEM THE SHAMEA Valentine for Gertrude SteinThe redingote’s not for riding, not a bit, but a bitrevealing, the skirt’s shirring, a spur and a gatheredhem. A hem. A hem. A selvedge stiff with wincing. So to divest you and also best you.This is their mode.Worsted weather and elsewherelittle spits and little spaces for sheen.A dress of steam. In the dress, a seam. A seam and a self

KDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18311275986230831208noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3212267520793412683.post-31697620575207165472011-04-16T16:27:00.006-04:002011-04-18T12:20:26.825-04:00

by Alexandra MarzellaOKay.My hand dresses my body.My mind moves my hand.My hand types black words on white pages.Today I am not myself.Today I am my most hated foe.I lean against the partition we created for her.So she would stay.So she would design. So she would be happy.So she would be proud.Was it selfish.Relating her, to me, to the clothing we’d make side by side.To the poems we’d read and

KDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18311275986230831208noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3212267520793412683.post-42481139748875035952011-04-15T03:34:00.016-04:002011-04-18T02:49:03.628-04:00

by Becky PetersonClogsMany things become unclear when you start talking about clogsThe difference between what’s practical and what’s fantasticalI am talking literally about clogs here, not representations of clogs, clogs as laboror genitalia; the larger meaning of clogs and the purposes of clogs in fashionWhen I go to Holland everyone is wearing cowboy bootsI learn that to wear clogs there is to

KDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18311275986230831208noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3212267520793412683.post-16675502926496702422011-04-12T22:43:00.004-04:002011-04-12T22:49:47.696-04:00

by Kari Larsen(Printers Devil)I patterned shadow as a child using words. I only did portraits, fixedly, I loved faces in negative space, and the way faces drain and manipulate what surrounds them. I scrawled walls of text to form what wavered after faces. Text in art, I was taught, was expository, and in frustration I burned my work. Text demystified image: words could not be misleading, possess

KDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18311275986230831208noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3212267520793412683.post-27005248010274311662011-04-12T21:49:00.010-04:002011-04-15T03:20:00.936-04:00

by Ingrid PrussI cannot explain the motivation but can certainly capture the glee of the late January morning I committed to purchasing a file of 50 designer fonts for Windows 2010. It was a snow day. Though I hate shopping, the pleasure of this online purchase was deeper and purer than the hot pink pashmina I dreamt of wrapping around my shoulders all winter long, having saved five dollars

KDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18311275986230831208noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3212267520793412683.post-89175232710564501762011-04-12T21:04:00.019-04:002011-04-18T04:51:30.575-04:00

by Carrie MurphyReticuleThe poem is a navy blue leather purse that used to belong to your grandmother.The poem is an embroidered tapestry-style satchel.The poem is a vintage silver clutch with a Lucite handle.The poem is a sow’s ear, a silk slipper bag, a bejeweled tampon case.where do you put your poems/where do you keepThe poem is my purple L.L. Bean backpack with my initials in dingy white.The

KDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18311275986230831208noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3212267520793412683.post-36380960027366506412011-04-10T14:47:00.008-04:002011-04-10T15:20:36.232-04:00

by Gina AbelkopInspired by a 1962 photograph of Sylvia Plath, I began to wear my own hair in a Dutch crown braid. This type of braid is taught to me via youtube tutorial led by a lady with a British accent. Sisterhood is powerful, knowledge passed down. Who’s to say this knowledge is not important? A woman in another country helped me to feel closer to a poet whose words have licked at my innards

beccahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11261837432902612470noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3212267520793412683.post-18537709808859184382011-04-10T14:36:00.005-04:002011-04-10T15:02:05.762-04:00

by Rosebud Ben-OniIt might seem I’ve turned my back you. That I’m deliberately trying not to blend. Make us target out in the open, where the murky, lazy waters of the Rio Grande sullied all but the bundle tightly wrapped of the dress I’ll wear in a land forbidden. I will walk with my head up, shoulders back, where day runs into night. I know how to tell time from patches in the ground. I will

beccahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11261837432902612470noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3212267520793412683.post-10139941231746836742011-04-09T02:17:00.038-04:002011-04-10T21:37:31.873-04:00

by Dana Teen LomaxThe following series is part of a larger work entitled All Made Up and was created on March 31, 2011 at the Town Center and Northgate Malls in Marin, California. "Dior" appears in Disclosure (Black Radish Books, 2011). Nothing was purchased in the creation of this work.Click images for larger view.Dana Teen Lomax is the author of several books of poetry, including Disclosure (

KDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18311275986230831208noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3212267520793412683.post-7402810888327589072011-04-09T01:36:00.013-04:002011-04-09T22:08:32.657-04:00

by Elisa GabbertFashion is considered frivolous because the industry revolves around women. Fashion is about women, although most designers are male. (Gay men face the same systematic dismissal as women; homophobia and misogyny are at base the same instinct.) Fashion is not the object of the male gaze, but it does lie in the gaze’s path. Fashion serves two purposes, one functional and one

KDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18311275986230831208noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3212267520793412683.post-85289416083879167292011-04-09T00:52:00.025-04:002011-04-18T17:08:43.894-04:00

REVENGE OF THE SLIP DRESS SLUTSMildred, a black feather eyemask! -Chelsey Minnis (Sketch from Hannah Weiner's "Fashion Show Poetry Event")by Kate DurbinSince Baroness von Elsa paraded down the street naked save for black paint. Since she wore shower curtain rings as bracelets and postage stamps as beauty marks. Since Hannah Weiner wrote WORD

KDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18311275986230831208noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3212267520793412683.post-85165036618992586792011-03-29T01:15:00.005-04:002011-04-10T16:51:37.801-04:00

SEAM RIPPER: Women on Textual & Sartorial StyleEmily Dickinson’s dress.(Photo: Jerome Liebling, Mt. Holyoke Art Museum.)This Delirious Hem feature calls for women poets and writers to submit texts and images that examine the relationship between writing and fashion in their lives. Please submit:1. A brief text that comments on, enacts, or somehow examines the relationship between your clothing

beccahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11261837432902612470noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3212267520793412683.post-59377061009017358482010-12-24T12:08:00.006-05:002010-12-24T12:35:42.977-05:00

 MY SWAGGER  Mary Biddinger More like a gun than an anchor, a revolver,the loop they played to make it sound like a dinerin the studio, the entire neighborhood, one guy’s shirtcausing chaos around the corner, debasing the skyof its antique linens, the kind that bragged how manyonce inched across then reconsidered, rolled overthe way that I don’t allow you, so flip the light offin the birdhouse

Daniela Olszewskanoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3212267520793412683.post-37916402228920129422010-12-23T14:13:00.001-05:002010-12-23T14:13:46.150-05:00

FASHIONWHORE: KATE MOSS Marking her thirtieth British Vogue cover, supermodel Kate Moss takes over the September issue of Vogue UK with a mix of rock ’n roll flair and classic elegance. Lensed by Patrick Demarchelier, Kate shines bright in “The Moss Factor.” Willy Vanderperre captures a sultry Kate Moss for the cover shoot of April’s Vogue UK. Styled by Miranda Almond in flirty and elegant

Daniela Olszewskanoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3212267520793412683.post-79884188468223088502010-12-22T15:34:00.000-05:002010-12-22T15:34:19.225-05:00

Upturned Cistern, Plastic Fawn The lettered streets stop short of K. Knock on the garden of the ruined gate. Beyond us cold orchards and kerosene lanterns, frozen Delicious asleep on the tree. Past Anchor Island, past Petulant Ridge, past the failing pedestrian bridge. You’ve brought weather from the places you go. A girl could get lost among handfuls of loose tea. Two men in scrubs ferry a

Daniela Olszewskanoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3212267520793412683.post-19997181327856078772010-12-21T15:31:00.001-05:002010-12-21T15:32:15.120-05:00

the kissing disease Sometimes, I am too suggestible. Both exquisite and satin hipped, moving through December like a doll within a doll.  I am always too exciteable, this contagion sweet on a boy's tongue. I pretend that we are moving further and further apart, like halving an orange and then halving it again. Or a curtain unfolding and unfolding to reveal a ballerina, ice lipped in a white dress

Daniela Olszewskanoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3212267520793412683.post-46184941962897846772010-12-20T14:35:00.000-05:002010-12-20T14:35:18.543-05:00

Midwinter Chicago, 2010 Bunker Hill looked beautiful in 1960 a black and white clapboard shambles in perpetual dusk as the cars make their way down 3rd headlights refract in the camera lens into a line of blinding stars A spectacular view of Los Angeles from an old man’s window from the new man’s window from the malingering world’s window and the woman who has no future but perpetual black

Daniela Olszewskanoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3212267520793412683.post-26444896573349440542010-12-19T14:35:00.000-05:002010-12-19T14:35:46.767-05:00

Artless      Adores her itinerant Quivering  Sea of voices Painted      Image   legible Iridescent  rich& lush Binding December    alone      Eat your early paradox: Dirty Cloak Industry Artless is      Radiant exultant Contractions of little mugs Heaving& rising      Incident me: Come, Come, Come! Answer mechanically      Thoughts persist Alcohol tedious    thereafter Inward damp

Daniela Olszewskanoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3212267520793412683.post-16990455208170623212010-12-18T13:37:00.000-05:002010-12-18T13:37:18.531-05:00

RADICALIZATIONAn agitator holds her sign up asking are you feeling equal, so you and your sisters deride her because she's so public about Injustice, so second-wave. Your sisters gather around her with collective scorn and sully her earnest nature It’s thanks but no thanks. I can vote, walk into the pharmacy for my Plan B, and wear a chain wallet. One sister throws an apple into the melee and the

Daniela Olszewskanoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3212267520793412683.post-40539702122769091132010-12-17T12:04:00.000-05:002010-12-17T12:04:06.940-05:00

The Dead Girls Speak in Unison Hush, now.  In a house like ours, stay quiet.  Keep moist or your skin will split and spill your secrets across the carpet, one stupid bagworm after another. Hush.  Do not disturb our needles, squalling thread.  We’re stitching up all your fancy mistakes. We’re stitching up your mother’s face. We’re going to stitch you a new one. We’re going to take

Daniela Olszewskanoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3212267520793412683.post-36519019496077865382010-12-16T13:37:00.004-05:002010-12-16T13:47:31.910-05:00

AIRPORT OF SAD HAIRCUTS I finally have enough socks so that I only have to do my laundry twice a month, the guy said,on the plane, but still, does that meanmy girlfriend shouldn't have to call and wishme a Happy Hanukkah? I said I wasn't Jewishwhen he asked, but did I know about the candles?Everyone knows about the candles, he said.That's true, I said. All the townsin the morning were below us,

Daniela Olszewskanoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3212267520793412683.post-6330304316011581882010-12-15T12:27:00.000-05:002010-12-15T12:27:35.252-05:00

Gooseberry Kiss I, too, am a monster. We becoming don’t ask words / becoming. Her lightning face / oh my lovely. Darling daughter… Who knows how much of me sleeps / sits alone in the silent? Some buildings loiter, loiter – and that is why I have seen suddenly everyone is a rat. I was that race at that moment. Skinly suited thing resembled barking blue dogs. Sure. So out of this barren

Daniela Olszewskanoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3212267520793412683.post-48449337368338883172010-12-14T14:56:00.001-05:002010-12-14T15:03:05.721-05:00

Ornaments of Providence & Welded Water snowy December sunshine.            instead of a hot air balloon            I have cardinals                        in melted birdbath water,            like a well-meaning professor                        saying morning.               ***   I drink a sunlit whiskey,         a belt of coal right through me.                  *** poke                   at

Daniela Olszewskanoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3212267520793412683.post-52496446831992309282010-12-13T11:20:00.002-05:002010-12-13T11:47:14.344-05:00

Bioluminescent Christmas Trees This greening our night an unhasping-of. Phosphor-escent nursery. Glasphalted sky. The saw-song gleams friction, cuts its own kind of light. Strapped to our cars, strung along roadways. An oceanscapedraped across foyers—the trees, then, afterglow on the turned-off curvesof television screens. : : :Glitter the gold into each needle until brightness clutters & spills

Daniela Olszewskanoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3212267520793412683.post-66533868605632555232010-12-12T13:17:00.005-05:002010-12-12T13:20:55.339-05:00

from Lizard She has landed.She’s in the seatof bite. She’sdreaming tails andthunder. Sound iswhat binds her.Inscrutable, shewhispers, whywould I want thatword? Blues hardenough, she croons.All night tradesappetites, all dayseeks cover. Drinksin the happy hour Sarah Rosenthal is the editor of A Community Writing Itself: Conversations with Vanguard Writers of the Bay Area (Dalkey Archive) and

Daniela Olszewskanoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3212267520793412683.post-29477075836374900802010-12-11T13:32:00.004-05:002010-12-11T15:27:45.889-05:00

Death and the Woman (Tod und Frau) object exactly the size of any spacewe occupy, shadowed againsta shadow as it is. if this isto be being and to be beingin it irremediably withoutrefuse materiality howdo we remain silent, left for deaf, how do we occupysilence, how do we leave, do we              -Jen Hofer, from One muscle, bones, sinew—back’s arch leg’s fierce tendonstoes grounded behind the

Daniela Olszewskanoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3212267520793412683.post-46157884196121311162010-12-10T11:30:00.005-05:002010-12-10T14:33:35.996-05:00

DECEMBER POEM      for Farid You post a link to a love song on my wall I tell you to wear a coat it’s cold it’s months since we’ve stood at a baggage carousel O brave new country of short days this year I just want to love each other kind let each day stand before our red door like David Rawlings singing the part of Emmylou Harris singing the part of Alison Krauss we

Daniela Olszewskanoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3212267520793412683.post-20855479517286340192010-12-09T13:28:00.003-05:002010-12-09T13:38:37.123-05:00

Alien Where is the horsebed, the mall square, the sea length equator?  What words are without eyes?   Without clothes she landed. Maze legs longer, the people mistake her for a doorframe. Walk through and things are cloudy. Sense no longer alive. Squint to see all the better to hear, a language of audience and skies. Things here taste weird, they mace weird, lace up the face weird.  They guess

Daniela Olszewskanoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3212267520793412683.post-18214914683210116072010-12-08T12:48:00.006-05:002010-12-08T13:13:26.401-05:00

RABBIT FEVER Adults in early winter love                                 climbing toward open skin, walking in the center of trails where weeds do not                                 brush against them. Burning itwith a match. The next best things                                 to wide masking tape are the eyesand hands of small children. Myself, I feel                                 black as

Daniela Olszewskanoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3212267520793412683.post-56594476609987738752010-12-07T13:04:00.002-05:002010-12-21T21:37:59.245-05:00

There Are So Many People Who Want To See You While You’re Home For mothers who need avenged, a son’s killing, this son’s     killing a weakness of mother, dear Mother, Happy Valentine’s Day, Happy Thanksgiving, Merry Christmas,     The Furies seek and destroy, do not kill anyone including a parent     this parent, apparent, we are backing up and down we are backing up back back it up back

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