Attachment: Atlantic City Pimp (live, 9-07)
Gregory Pardlo reading “Attachment: Atlantic City Pimp” live at Bowdoin College, September 6, 2007.
Gregory Pardlo
Gregory Pardlo & Gabriel Welsch at Bowdoin College, September 6, 2007
Poster by Maine artist A.F. Norling. On September 6, 2007, From the Fishouse was pleased to present a reading by Gregory Pardlo and Gabriel Welsch at Bowdoin College in Brunswick, Maine. Listen to the full reading (approximately 55 minutes), or listen to the poems individually: Full Reading Pardlo Full Reading The Miniaturist Dolphin Charter, Cape […]
Totem
Jasbo Brown I flashed tunes, grinning like a new hubcap. My whistling camouflaged a kiss, riding a struggle-buggy up from Huntsville bound for the Southside rain that came and wet puddle basins, made the flagstone finish jet. Spunk is the surest horse this season, said she. And Washington bought his teeth from slaves. He taught […]
Double Dutch
The girls turning double-dutch bob & weave like boxers pulling punches, shadowing each other, sparring across the slack cord casting parabolas in the air. They whip quick as an infant’s pulse and the jumper, before she enters the winking, nods in time as if she has a notion to share, waiting her chance to speak. […]
The Miniaturist
She is jack-hammering needlepoint through a hank of satin blanched in a wash of milk light, the rippling fluorescents, her sculpted hunch snow-capped above the workbench, the ceiling veined with shadow play of plumbing gurgling like hand fed pigeons. House-shoes drag out her listening and she thinks of sea foam inching the linoleum’s edge, dampening […]
Roller Coaster
Whenever seventeen returns, I tend to enter on that summer and the only job I thought could earn my patience. It starts with a dad- darkened sky draining from the rear-view glanced as the road’s polished grains abstract between my legs, through the hole- rusted floor of my ’82 Chevette. Back then, driving to work […]
Suburban Passional
Measured, I would tell the nation with my lips drawn and certain if a correspondent prompted me to describe the widow. As in she measured evenings in the incense I watched ash like a fuse and once imagined her body turned to silt wicked in bathwater. Yet puckering the sofa with elbows and heels, she […]
Soundtrack
3:36 Harvey, your car stereo left rhythm’s tinnitus patting my head, a diaphanous afro, as I gathered steam in the glancing shafts of sad and angry light playing about the purblind alley the idling cruiser’s fingers drumming alike each wall, uniform and alleged offender. An empty lot jagged with the fallout of forties targeted along […]