Poetry
After A Self-Portrait by Francis Picabia
A french fry sticks its tongue out at you
Blue, swollen, unfathomable
As hot air stirs local economy
The carbuncle mayor invites your double to join his delicious nightmare
Blue, swollen, unfathomable
Stuck on scraps of an umbrella
The carbuncle mayor invites your double to join his delicious nightmare
This is not the landscape painting I ordered from The Optimist Factory
Stuck on scraps of an umbrella
A phantasmagorical ode to human suffering
This is not the landscape painting I ordered from The Optimist Factory
A phalanx of lackeys entering backwards
A phantasmagorical ode to human suffering
Written by a mechanical pencil known as “The crimson moon kimono”
A phalanx of lackeys entering backwards
I started drawing children clapped in moldy fireplaces
Written by a mechanical pencil known as “The crimson moon kimono”
I drive a car as big as a wolf’s ravenous eyes
I started drawing children clapped in moldy fireplaces
Excellent mental symptoms occur at the boundaries
I drive a car as big as a wolf’s ravenous eyes
A french fry sticks its tongue out at you.
Excellent mental symptoms occur at the boundaries
As hot air stirs local economy
RECOMMENDED ARTICLES
Jeannette Ehlers: Archives in the Tongue: A Litany of Freedoms
By Alice GodwinSEPT 2022 | ArtSeen
Ehlers’s exhibition gives voice to those who historically lacked such a stake and whose stories continue to be little heard in Denmark. But Ehlers does not exert influence on the stories they tell.
three
By Ken TaylorJUL-AUG 2022 | Poetry
Ken Taylor is author of “first the trees, now this” (2013), “dog with elizabethan collar” (2015), “self-portrait as joseph cornell” (2016) and “aeromancy garage” (2020). He is the founder and editor of selva oscura press.
Lyle Ashton Harris: Our first and last love
By Leah Triplett HarringtonAPRIL 2023 | ArtSeen
Lyle Ashton Harris: Our first and last love presents thirty-five years of the artist’s work, which often veers into collage, installation, and performance in an exhibition that is as much a cumulative self-portrait as it is something of a mid-career retrospective.
eight
By Eric BausAPRIL 2022 | Poetry
Eric Baus is the author of How I Became a Hum (Octopus Books, 2019), The Tranquilized Tongue (City Lights, 2014) and other books. He teaches at Regis University and lives in Denver, Colorado.
