by JL Jacobs | Nov 15, 2019 | Poetry
A portrait of the artist as an artist When I first wake, the bed is already in the other room. A streetcar. A candle falls into the fire. In the next dream, a trestle bridge does nothing. The stream is at the lowest part of the valley. Après une petit-dejeuner, je...
by JL Jacobs | Nov 13, 2019 | Poetry
How Would The King Tell It? after Selah Saterstrom What does a fire sentence look like? .. Like an oracle, like an atonement to listening. In art is there a traditional way that a mother looks at her baby? .. In art a mother is never the king. Can we fall in love with...
by JL Jacobs | Nov 11, 2019 | Poetry
A portrait of a vase on a table The moon in the wall, in the park, dusty is crooked. Then a picture of a nail in the wall, a chair covered leg, crooked ducks. A hat is too weeds, too weeds all along the growing wall. A day in the corner of the attic so alley, we...
by JL Jacobs | Nov 8, 2019 | Poetry
ESCAPE TO NOWHERE Good morning! Where would you like to go? I’d like to go to the Museum of Contemporary Art. How long do you think it will take to get there? It depends on the traffic. Or you could make a Sackler-sized donation. Good morning, what are you...
by JL Jacobs | Nov 6, 2019 | Poetry
OFFER FROM DADA Pears picked from the tree safely according to the SAFE! online safety act of the new sun also calling for SAFE! roads, SAFE! drivers, SAFE! vehicles. SAFE! news. No speaking in dispraise of Dada. Only Dada may do so nonsensically syncing anonymously...
by JL Jacobs | Nov 4, 2019 | Poetry
Fine rhythms To feathers flow slow difficult three few select. The word ground few book slow. Most part possible float, few word slow book. Fine windows through, the next part elm finess. Bird call maps the frame difficult. Three. Particles. Few word. ...
