Advertisement · 728 × 90

Posts by R.L.

“If you have reasons to love someone, you don’t love them.” - Zizek

8 months ago 2 0 0 0

“Backward I see…where I sweated through fog with linguists and contenders. I have no mockings or arguments, I witness and wait.”

-Whitman

8 months ago 1 0 0 0

“The unconscious is structured like a poem.” -Lacan

9 months ago 3 0 0 0

“The reason we go to poetry is not for wisdom, but for the dismantling of wisdom” -Lacan

10 months ago 9 1 0 0

"Everybody says sex is obscene. The only true obscenity is war."
-Henry Miller, Tropic of Cancer

11 months ago 15 6 0 0

congrats to marie fuckin howe winner of the 2025 pulitzer for poetry! her words have been burned into my heart for 16 years, they come with me everywhere i go

11 months ago 43 7 2 1
Preview
May 2025 "He wants simple math. / Breath that outlasts / violence."

New newsletter out this week with shout outs to Julia Kolchinsky & her new book, SLAC sabbaticals, art about Appalachia, & more

11 months ago 7 2 0 0
Advertisement

No, seriously, you want this book.

11 months ago 6 3 1 0
Preview
Poem by Martha Silano: "Everything Ends" Martha Silano is the author of five books of poetry, most recently Gravity Assist (Saturnalia Books, 2019). She teaches at Bellevue College ...

The full poem, which I read to my love last night, and they sighed at the end ❤️

11 months ago 16 4 1 0
A poem by Ryler Dustin

BAPTISM AT AGATE BAY MOBILE HOME PARK

Before you go for good, walk past the crooked pines and truck too rusted to run. Light a stolen cigarette

among stumps of hemlocks, Douglas firs, false cedars the landlord sold for lumber, then watch the sun sink

into Lake Whatcom, its fire tonguing the shore. From one trailer comes war on the nightly news,

from another, a TV preacher yells about our sins, his anger muffled by tin walls as if underwater.

At dusk, when the park's dim lamp clicks on, push past nettles and broken branches to the beach

with its rotted, half-sunk dock, constellations you have no names for rising above the dark hills.

Though it's cold-summer at its end-strip in the wind, hold your breath, and dive

                      into that other sky.

A poem by Ryler Dustin BAPTISM AT AGATE BAY MOBILE HOME PARK Before you go for good, walk past the crooked pines and truck too rusted to run. Light a stolen cigarette among stumps of hemlocks, Douglas firs, false cedars the landlord sold for lumber, then watch the sun sink into Lake Whatcom, its fire tonguing the shore. From one trailer comes war on the nightly news, from another, a TV preacher yells about our sins, his anger muffled by tin walls as if underwater. At dusk, when the park's dim lamp clicks on, push past nettles and broken branches to the beach with its rotted, half-sunk dock, constellations you have no names for rising above the dark hills. Though it's cold-summer at its end-strip in the wind, hold your breath, and dive into that other sky.

The cover of "Something Bright" by Ryler Dustin shows a glowing sun partially hidden by the stump of a fallen tree with new leaves growing from it.

The cover of "Something Bright" by Ryler Dustin shows a glowing sun partially hidden by the stump of a fallen tree with new leaves growing from it.

A good poem to read before bedtime. This is by Ryler Dustin from a Green Linden Press chapbook entitled "Something Bright."

11 months ago 26 10 3 0
Post image

Found Poem #2: From Sea to Shining Sea

1 year ago 3 0 0 0
Post image
1 year ago 1 0 0 0

Found Poem #1: Alive

I can only say that
I love that
I am alive

Read into that in
the ways you desire.
All of them are true.

I say this in
a 4 x 8 cell
enclosed by 13 bars.

1 year ago 4 0 0 0