Tag Archives: Vinyl Poetry

Best Things I’ve Read This Week: Three New Issues of Rad Magazines

9 Dec

Got all unsituated for a sec but here, I am back. Missed this Vouching raft. A few good mags popped open their newest caps for us recently. ENJOY:

The real as hell Vinyl displayed this big huff thing “Aaahhh” by Steven D. Schroeder, like it too “exhaled jet fuel and ozone holes.” With bottom gut oomph like this issue in general does, this poem brings the noise with the knob turned up two or three spots. And that end squishes the breath outta me.

Here starts the burn:

No, not smell that honeysuckle!
or what a refreshing Coke!
or you solved the equation for oxygen!
As the only plants that manufactured
air outsourced to Singapore,
our breath burst, swarmed, burned,
turned every vowel plosive,
laughed a feral mongrel’s cough.
When it vented verbs skyward,
we exhaled jet fuel and ozone holes.
When it ran low at grocery stores,
the choice was paper or plastic bags
for our faces.

“My Own Dead American” by Matthew Harrison in the new issue of Sixth Finch is its own sort of devil, swaying between truths, singing your name (well, Diana), eating and fucking and losing. I’m awed by this poem’s allure. I am the I and Diana and “the Jacuzzi at the spa where you left/the final body of your message.” I’m broken at the end as we find out America is what we feared all along: “long and lonesome.”

And then there was Laurel Hunt with her own brand of splattering in the 2nd anniversary issue of Smoking Glue Gun. These speakers press a thumb out and down, remain wildly optimistic and charitable. Addicting is what they are, beginning to end.

laurel_hunt

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FINISHING UP

7 May

Finishing up my undergraduate degree this past week, I used new issues of some amazing journals that May unleashed to give me a break.

Below are the new issues of journals that I’ve read this week and enjoyed a great deal, featuring the declaration of my favorite piece from each issue:

Sixth Finch:
Each With Our Own Occult by Eric AndersonThe first poem from the issue and oh man, it brings the POWER. Maybe, I’m biased because it’s two lines in and INDIANA. I love Indiana, but no, I love this poem for more than that, it’s delicate progression before the awww-boom ending.

elimae:
Take 42 by Brett Elizabeth Jenkins Another delicately progressive poem that unfolds beautifully. That last line for some reason really shakes me.

Vinyl Poetry:
Self Portrait as Jeffrey Dahmer by Ocean Vuong I love how this poem uses its artifice and unexpectedly unleashes an insightful emotional journey. Just check out the opening two stanzas:

It is not the flesh I want
but what glows behind it.
For you are not the face
softened with evening. Not
the eyes I’ve searched,
in vain, for my own.

Because you are never what binds you—
not muscle or organ, not even
the voice: that rupture of air
I dare to deem melodic.

Diagram: Richard’s Mother Calls To Ask When He Is Coming Home by Daniel Story The distance this poem travels in its discussion of place, identity, and relationships is remarkable. Call it a ping-pong kinda thing. Also, I was impressed with how the use of the third person informed that movement.

I know many of you already read these magazines, but I hope you’ll check out these pieces and others if you haven’t already.

What are your favorite pieces from these issues? Any other new issues of journals I should not miss?

Vinyl Poetry Rules YES YES YES

2 Dec

Yesterday, I realized I needed a haircut, so my also-named-Tyler pal cut it for me.

Today, I remembered how cool Vinyl Poetry is.

The new issue has cool stuff by fun word people like Bob Hicok, Nate Pritts, and Nick Ripatrazone.

But Vinyl also brings the boo-yeah with people I’ve never read before.

Like the work of Prathna Lor. These short prose poems rule in the way complicated things hide themselves in simple shapes, like a boom boom change of heart hidden in a haircut.

Check out what I mean in this excerpt from “Mannerisms:”

Every so often, I arrive at a locus where I am unable to politely hold a ball of air. And it is during these moments in which I think of you, you, and you—though, perhaps, not in that order.

Also, the Grocery List thing is as wild as grocery lists get.

Heck, this whole journal is interesting, so get interested and interests and interesting.

“When you read, have fun.” – my first grade teacher.