Tuesday, April 10, 2012

4 poems by John Donovan


The rolled up hills of
middle Oklahoma -
satellite dishes burned
at the stake -
Christina threw our
blankets into
Coal Creek while I
folded flowers
on an ancient lake
bed. We were
short women wearing
capes and
face paint - practicing
sleep walking.
A dozen white and
black cows
avalanched some twenty
acres away.


In 1997 she was made
bishop   and her father
(a manufacturer of steel
billboards) put out a
rat trap.

Brahman takes a stroll

to the zoo to see when the bears - maps
in twists of fur - light knuckles for the
masses - bald science's fair instinct being
fished and God is looking - on exit from a
forty something - slipping into this mannish
smirk of bronze discretion - would ache.


"budding fee"
"eel zen"
"eating tune"

"Night Ass"
"ice tans"
"dent tide"

"tree bust"
"D nose"

"bay breeze"
"god Noose"
"clove spurned"

"lay tally"
"ivy seamer"

"sand herb"
"owes hat"
"fowl Lent"

"rum, Hercules"

John Donovan is a musician who writes, records, and releases music from his bedroom.
Between songs he writes poems and makes art. John grew up in Dallas, TX and lives in St. Louis, MO. His music can be heard at http://music.johndonovanmusic.com/ 

Thursday, April 5, 2012

5 poems by Larry Sawyer


the browning edges of the photograph are the outskirts of a map, in which

may be found the beasts and drooping trees living green in the memory

and we inhabit those regions, completely forgotten until once again

we glance into that other world and return to that day that

haunts us at the edge of a table, which pretends to go unnoticed

but now we are aware, and this awareness is an elevator that

carries us upward in our minds

what we resemble most upon realizing these invented scents

at the cliff’s edge is that a photograph is a scalpel

performing the most delicate operation.


At the core of couches

your white radish thought alive with plentiful

owls. In the flaming crotch

of chance

the hot kinetic speech monkey

newly fused and erotic

yes, you heard right

chews the winged ethical conundrum

called alive

You’ve tormented

seizures, doused


especially, with

paradisal poems

Not scrying, or sitting in

a sound bath, listening to the magnetic plumage’s

stony ligature

sucking an incandescent virginity

you failed our czarist tarantula

protested invalidated simulations

electronic kitten pots

buried hyperactive bonfires

and so we wait.


machine for making disdain

machine for making love

machine for making meadow grass

machine for making gardens

machine for making rock

machine for making music

machine for making bees

machine for making obviousness

machine for making night

machine for making god

machine for making excavations

machine for making judgment

machine for making Chicken Kiev

machine for making distances

machine for making pink

machine for making sleep

machine for making dreams

machine for making light.


I have given up sleep and now
continuously walk waking up

keeping me awake these tired lines
which prop my gargantuan eyes

Once a woman called to me
sleep, sleep, but I said unequivocally

I must witness the whole of life this waking
dream, after she ignored me.


contradictions of
frozen strawberries here
walking along Michigan avenue
which moves like a Mozart sonata
not No. 16 in C major too familiar
for this rarity of
December air
its frosty fidelity as I think about
putting a suit and tie
on my loneliness and going out

but stay inside with
a cup of yesterday's razor sharp worries but now
I'm walking again and nothing
seems transcendent it all seems dull

but I remember now, too this reification
while walking through this
poem that now has such tired eyes
I'm hungry for comfort.

Apollinaire wrote of the gamy
of memory, and I think of Chicago's lost coyotes

and listen to frozen
bells sparkling through the streets mothering
my shivering words
shouting at posterity.

Larry Sawyer/ poetry and literary reviews have appeared in publications including Action Yes, The Argotist (UK), The Chicago Tribune, Coconut, Court Green, Esque, Exquisite Corpse, Hunger, Jacket (Australia), The Miami Sun Post, MiPoesias, The National Poetry Review, Outlaw (UK), The Prague Literary Review (Czech Republic), Rain Taxi, Shampoo, Skanky Possum, Tabacaria (Portugal), Van Gogh's Ear (France), Vanitas, VLAK (Czech Republic), Ygdrasil, and elsewhere. His work appeared in The City Visible: Chicago Poetry for the New Century (anthology, Cracked Slab Books, 2007). Convulsive Editions will soon publish a poem as a broadside with visual art by Allyssa Wolf. He’s curated the Myopic Books Poetry Reading Series in Wicker Park, Chicago since 2005, and has hosted readings there nearly every weekend that have included poets such as Eileen Myles, Ron Silliman, Cole Swensen, and Bernadette Mayer, as well as many Chicago-area poets. His debut collection, Unable to Fully California (cover art by Krista Franklin), is available on Otoliths Press (Australia). An ebook, Werewolf Weather (cover art by Gary Sullivan), recently appeared as an Argotist ebook. Sawyer also edits milk magazine (since 1998) with Lina ramona Vitkauskas and has published work by a wide variety of international poets and artists including Charles Bernstein, Jerome Rothenberg, Bill Berkson, Pierre Joris, and Wanda Coleman. Larry coordinated an online installation of the work of Japanese surrealist Yamamoto Kansuke for milk: the only online magazine granted permission to do so by the artist’s estate. Larry has read his work at venues such as the BONK! Reading and Performance Series in Racine, Wisconsin; the Chicago Printer's Row Lit Fest; Columbia College Chicago; The Hideout in Chicago; Myopic Books in Chicago; The Poetry Center of Chicago; Quimby's Bookstore in Chicago; The School of the Art Institute of Chicago; and Woodland Pattern Book Center in Milwaukee.