autumn is a time for tending. when was the last time you were home? when you close your eyes - are there green hills? fireflies? when did you learn to take cover? do you remember your first lie? what happened to that boy who kissed you behind your friend’s house?
The Stay Project is here for you. send your tendencies and tender musings to threepoets2017@gmail.com.
2
Weiss Cyrillic Cyanidic Sans
London fog fades
DevoursGlassDashallom
HarediחֲרֵדִיحريمIAMBIC
Incanroteblutpedantic
PolygonalPentameter
Los Angeles dust
Darts injects Tarsus
Fake news feeds
Cigarette clicks
Sparks id ἰδέα
Ideologos שאול
Sheol Mosaic
Muses Miso Milan
Hover יְהֹוָה אּיּוֹב
Cumbia crashes
Cash values jazz
Jamesian Judith
Alpha Beta scripts
Greece wrap crumbles
Slowly as if an Athenian scroll
Omniscient Reductio Ad
A black man gets hand
Cuffed for no reason
Other than suspicion
On the Baroque black
Handles of clubs dead
Dictated to diversity En
Turing I feel falsely sick
I crank Orphic doors of
What white reality star
Junkies call yogic pre
Sets to squared squalor
Molotovs Mescaline Hanoi
Confucius orders
Whiter-window-Franco-frames
Chiến tranh biên
Giớ graphics warps grime
Onorange ImmolatingLips
BeatLicks Napalm មែរក្រហម
Neo-Modernestá Haiku
Four two de fleur Pounds pure pulse
Weiss Cantos syncopate
Rhythms slit black Beats
Nothing Alles Daseins Eveningstar
Techne Crescendos
Crushing Formality
IntoOneSingularity
Haiku coup de grâce
Lunatic in Rome
LenaLina
LunarLunatic
I Am Perhaps
Phallically Persian in
Sane wither art thou
Hathors’ pharmakon
Canaanite Hebraic
Musique laws of
Modal Concrète
Walls mayFreeze // Fall
Dusting bildungs
Roman Catholics
Protestants from
All white sashes
1
1/59 Vegas ‘17
I listened a crystal shaman
in Phoenix
sing how last seconds
dying brain releasing DMT
be a rollercoaster
Japan train reversing
through a hologram forest
history of adolescence:
I hoped I’d see her diet Darth Vader
voice happen again
(masseter cheek muscle
a raised cinnamon stick).
I wanted to watch my clone
wanting to grab a gold fig
from her throat
(always sheathed by beige neck
skin till scattering atoms).
Those last 2 minutes are cinema, 60
years re-lived, he said.
Though right now (is right now
right now?) I can’t picture
concert sunset, legislation, trigger
behind linguistic sheet music,
TICK a tick a TICK a tick.
Maybe I imagined it (sorry:
here is two dimensional
literal
hard to remember)
or maybe I missed
the chemical trip
since my cerebrum beds half
a hot Nevadan bullet or
inside each death hole of us
waits an extinct accordion
with only two notes, repeated:
always isn’t, always isn’t?
1 - Austin Beaton
2 - Rose Knapp
