Small god of histories, make yourself known. Clay-eater, smith and jester, bend the dogwood down. Tell me who cheated who at cards, who placed spade next to heart before that ghost, my great-great uncle, slashed a man’s throat with his penknife? And walked himself weeping to the county jail. His nephew sent […]
Cursed be the one who makes a carved or molten image, the work of the hands of an artisan, and sets it up in secret. –Deuteronomy Miss Nobody, sister twin, I bequeath red plastic funnels for breasts, hair from the four corners of my bed. For your shoe a stone that bruised my […]
Dear girl, join the campaign to reconsider Nevada, its traffickers and ghost ships. My Westward Ho, my Hwy. 50 baby. On the loneliest road in America in the dark the mere flash of a lit cigarette informs the enemy. O the lost art of the CB. Heart-breaker breaker one nine. […]
Newsflash, Missus—machines have been invented to invent machines. I know you depend on me to make your name. But before you plucked me canopic, I peddled atoms at the linear accelerator; I kept myself in penny dreadfuls by importing diction illegally. After fencing with Herr Doctor Faustus, after purely scientific revelations, I came to with […]
Rebecca Black, author of Cottonlandia, talks about how she became interested in writing poetry.
Rebecca Black, author of Cottonlandia, talks about her greatest obstacle as a poet.
Rebecca Black, author of Cottonlandia, talks about the genesis of her poem, My Only Golem.