all things happening at once
September 19, 2012

Updates:

1. I had a couple poems published in an online journal! Check out Bare Hands Issue 11.

2. I just spent 5 days in the mountains of California with a bunch of queer girls and felt all the feelings and drank and kissed people whose names I don’t necessarily remember and screamed “SNATCH” in public areas and got no sleep and wondered the entire time why the whole world can’t be queer. You can read more about that here and here. I also met some amazing writers: Ashley (my cabin buddy), Gaby and Katrina (my cabin counselors), and many other members of the Autostraddle team who are all insanely talented and intimidating. You should read their work. If you don’t enjoy it, you should reassess your life.

3. I have finished several more books since I last did a reading list update: Sharon Olds’ “The Gold Cell”, Nabokov’s Transparent Things and Lolita, and Hemingway’s A Farewell to Arms. Nabokov is quickly becoming my favorite author. He writes insanity in a way that makes it familiar, so much so that you finish his books and think back and are shocked at your own lack of disgust. And his prose, independent of the plot content, is stunning in and of itself. I am working on a post about Transparent Things, and it will hopefully be up soon.

4. I turned 22 on Tuesday. This was accompanied by neither fanfare nor alcohol. It rained incessantly, and I got a fever from a flu shot. Outside of my friends and family, the universe took no notice of the passage of my life. This is neither surprising nor tragic, a simple daunting fact that I attempt to ameliorate by caffeine and sugar and change.

5. I am moving to France tomorrow. This is terrifying and exciting and wonderful. I will be teaching teenagers about my native language while hoping that they don’t discover that I am scared of their fluency in French slang.

6. I wrote a poem, because after everything is said and done, there is nothing else I can do:

a scar caressed

Falling asleep with
a new body is a test
of trusting and breath.

Your metal on my
metal, spoons in our dark drawer,
nestled and silenced –

I learn how not to
love. I learn how to be held,
how to say hello.

We have lips that we
teach to kiss, to speak, to close.
My bruised knees know how

to live. Do you know
their language? Show them how to
bend, your hands trembling.

In the quiet of
crowded rooms, tell me you will
touch and go, smiling.

 

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nine haikus for ninth week
November 8, 2011

Tightrope

Here it is: the end.
The finishing of it all.
The start is long gone.

Forever is now,
never, always, unfolding.
Moonlight on skin.  Yes.

Sinking down, don’t breathe.
Bubbles float, eyes close, limbs lift;
swim deep, rock-bottom.

Feel the building up,
reaching immanent lightness.
What else could there be?

No rain, no wind, none,
but open the umbrella.
Wait for what will come

Do you know the words?
The notes? Rests? The melody?
Sing it. Loudly. Yes.

Steal the blackboard chalk.
Draw duty, morality –
impossible things.

Can you erase them?
Try. Yes. There, you missed a spot
All gone. Good. All gone.

What is left for you?
Your hands, mouth, eyes, and what else?
What else do you need?

seven haikus for seventh week
October 26, 2011

It is seventh week.
I am afraid of the end;
it approaches fast.

Anarchism is
radical autonomy.
Can we live that way?

God is just ourselves
held apart from who we are.
Let’s take ourselves back.

I #occupy this
space surrounding my body.
I am a protest.

Disposable cups
are filling up my mind with
caffeine.  I can’t sleep.

My dreams are screenings –
films filled with chases, sex scenes.
Nighttimes are lucid.

Here between the lines
is a cozy place to be.
Inconspicuous.

entering the twitterverse
July 20, 2011

So, I now have a twitter account.  Slowly but surely, I am catching up with the times.  Follow me if you are so inclined @vNeck_Trees.  I’ll probably be tweeting things of a poetic nature a fair bit, so look forward to that, and if you’re curious about the literary mags that I’m interested in, you can find out about some of those through my twitter as well.

And because this is a poetry blog, after all, I’ve written a haiku about twitter, since the brevity of the form seems fitting, given the character limitations of a tweet…

 

All noises have ceased.

Crickets have stopped chirping and

the birds are offline.