Jules Gibbs’s first book of poems, Bliss Crisis, was published by The Sheep Meadow Press in the fall of 2012. She is also the author of a chapbook of poems, The Bulk of the Mailable Universe, published by Dancing Girl Press in 2011. Her poems and essays have appeared inThe American Poetry Review, The Antioch Review, Gulf Coast, Los Angeles Review, Salt Hill, and in […]
In the violent midday talk of a headless, wingless Limbaugh, there’s no one and nothing to kill. No more song. Time is buried under fickle sponsors and third party fallout, a volcano’s glassine dust. Rush hates spring for the allergies and the Armageddon —or is it the Genesis — he can never tell which. Because […]
“Who made the eyes but I?”— George Herbert The loveliest thing I’ve ever seen is my own left eye. The truth is, I’m fucking beautiful. You have no idea. In digital 3-D, the organ of my sight, as shown to me on a […]
The tree was not exactly weeping, but it was purging something from deep inside, a pang that seeped a sappy sickness thick with the fibrous bilge of pre-history, its leaves like downward daggers, tangs of urge mad at the whole earth but sympathetic with the universe, marching to a dirge of a thousand tiny wet […]
Six heads roll onto the dance floor in Tijuana to say something about saying something. If we read it right motion is the snitch —the noise says stuff our mouths don’t, like, tell me for […]
I guess there was something feckless about my love for sound, a feverish translation of material — freckles, child labor, the anticipation of a life sentence — into the sweet dark tongue of the universal. To curate the spine and its three curves into the lilt of a body not limned by the numbed senses. […]
As it turned out, we were no more than the idea of ourselves, God’s spittle bubbled on His big baby lips, bacterium of a deity swollen to the size and shape of a forest afloat on a bed of peat. It was the sort of news that brought everyone out into the streets. We thought […]
Last night you lifted a weightless bird and ate its six blue plumes. Your last elite act, it gave you a temporary fear of phosphorescence and gravity, and a dry cough. Soon you’ll have to dine on your own grandmother as she recommended herself on a recent menu, an appetizer, and was largely responsible for […]