Forthcoming from Solid Objects on September 28, Samuel Amadon’s Listener is a prosodic exercise in how far the poetic “I” can stretch when the object takes on the power of the subject. This process both begins and ends with an evocation of the epic tradition that is anything but naïve […]
In the market near your flat, the fish are still partially alive when you buy them. The yellow-aproned woman calls you over, gesturing to the croaker, the red snapper—“so fresh! I’ll give it to you for 35 dollars!”—with blood on their gelatinous eyes, their snouts, leaking or twitching all over […]
I have always used art to express my personal struggles as a young, gay, neuro-atypical black artist, and to understand myself as an individual who is continuously being molded by my environment. Growing up as a black person in an environment with a high crime rate, being constantly reminded of […]
“There are a few starlings in there adding to the syncopation,” a woman said to me in the Trader Joe’s parking lot. Her safari hat slipped down the back of her head. Her white hair flashed a beat of purple. Her zinc sunscreen beamed in patches next to her nose […]
When I was twenty years old, I left a kitchen knife in the baby’s crib. It was a good knife, that meat cleaver. I miss it. Nice and sharp. It would cut right through flesh and fat or gristle and bone without a lot of sawing. Movie night with the […]
“Each painting is a crude diary of marking time, of hoping and losing hope, of standing still while the world carries on; punctuated by violence, bureaucratic indifference, and thwarted desire.”
Glenn Morazzini’s poems have won the Allen Ginsberg Poetry Prize, an Amy Clampitt Residency Fellowship, Maine Arts Commission Literary Fellowship and have been published in Poetry, Rattle, and other journals.
I first became familiar with Shaqayeq Ahmadian’s work after I found her page on Instagram one night in 2018. Since then, I have followed her development as an artist and we have become friends, bonding over the experience of being young women working in creative fields; however, because she lives […]
“to admit / the pink wind / is your finger / in my mouth / is not a display / of longing / it’s an exercise / in painting a pearl”
English