poetry
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Facism
There was a face visible in the landscape painting that meant really it’s-all-tripping Which is Ancient Greek translated into Modern English for“everything is beautiful in its own way”your frowning sounding board face the face that left an imprint on the… Continue reading
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Making a bird wing with hammers
requires for the one with few tools to be incredibly swift and deft; and static tears in howling storms for all the sparrows that have died. Continue reading
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Archipelogos III
We came to the islands the sun rose from the ground hieroglyphics of yearning collectives arms raised to shake equanimity’s wheat for the day’s workreading stonesetched with lifecycle by evening the tree sap enters the finch through night for the… Continue reading
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Poetic Logic
There is a logic to sense – connective synthesis, identifying disjoins and slippery slopes shifting definition and synechdoches there is a logic to nonsense – and the baroque overcoat, gaps flailing, intermittent moanings and story breeze blowing the door off… Continue reading
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Archipelogos II
and the islands sloughed offthe mainlandin a continuum geocritical break upon breakdivision upon divisionof terrestrial meisosis many in the manyno man is Robinson Crusoe Islandbut I have lived on him quakes that breakgreat lakes and landmassesfed to fish glacier cracktumble… Continue reading
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Archipelogos
It was the cliff broken with reason that landed on seapaper forming theoretical islands bunched like coins in a purse in the stitches between reason theoretical lifeforms arose out of the clear rush coming to shore like baby incomparably, legs… Continue reading
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The Shipyard
The night harboursblinks with electricityto nerve the port headand lighthouse eyeevery bone is a shipthe skeleton fleetmooring to journey of bodyin the coming morning the night harboursghostreadingsthat steal away to dancehallssailor to shorewalker to dancehall dancertreading boards on the pierthe sun… Continue reading
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Soap Opera
Singing I heard from a few showers from the apartment well the showers ran as a small ensemble to the troupe each discrete melody perceivable I heard every drop on the tiles making time signatures like the sound of a… Continue reading
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The Mission Orphees
I Jolly Roger –stowaway walks the plank and becomes the hanged man upside down, drowned in the water The captain knows I have spied the map and that I am a blabber mouth he keeps me holed up in the… Continue reading
Ariel Riveros Pavez 