On Peekaboo and the Pathetic Fallacy
—or breathing’s disappearance qua
of eucalyptus, hills like pelt
spread over muscle, bruised succulents.
Black ocean lapping, lapping, and erosion
throws itself at the freeway, giddy mud
penned in, restraining wire. Who is the cliff
that can’t hold on, that slides? Contours
self-transfiguring, traffic blocked. "The only constant
is impermanence." "Get home safe!"
You and me—these precincts
bearded with seaweed—your body.
Igneous, milky. Halo flash on windshields at sunset, scary vestiges
of heaven, cop’s mirrored glasses. So
we lived inside this tang. "Object constancy"
means the infant believing past the blanket, bougainvillea
uncancelled by the fog. And liquefaction, faults
and rupture: natural. But it hurt, the seized-up
Frances Richard is nonfiction editor of the literary journal Fence; a member of the editorial team at the art and culture magazine Cabinet; and a frequent contributor to Artforum. Her first book of poems, See Through, is forthcoming from Four Way Books in 2003. She teaches at Barnard College, and lives in Brooklyn.
A Selection of Drain PoemsBy Ken L. Walker
MAY 2022 | Poetry
Ken L. Walker has published two chapbooksAntworten (translations of Georg Herwegh from Greying Ghost) and Twenty Glasses of Water from Diez. He has poems and translations in Boston Review, Tammy, Seattle Review, Atlas Review, and ANMLY. His prose and reviews can be found in The Poetry Project Newsletter, Hyperallergic, and Diagram. He holds an MFA from Brooklyn College, works in advertising, and spends the rest of his time documenting drains.
Twelve Poems Beginning with A, B, CBy Charles Bernstein
MAY 2023 | Poetry
Charles Bernstein In 2021, boundary 2 published Charles Bernstein: The Poetry of Idiomatic Insistences, edited by Paul Bove, which collected interviews as well as essays on his work from an international perspective. Neeli Cherkovski reviewed his Near/Miss in the November 2020 Brooklyn Rail.
79. (Brooklyn Navy Yard, Columbia County)
NOV 2021 | The Miraculous
An artist in his mid-30s living in New York and working in a 300-square-foot studio in the Brooklyn Navy Yard, finds himself consumed by frustration and anger. Although he is having exhibitions, after the shows close his paintings inevitably return to his studio, unsold. Hes not sure he wants to go on being an artist. A psychiatrist he consults helps him to understand that his anger revolves around his feelings about race, class and entitlement. Eventually the psychiatrist recommends that he begin working with a physical trainer, who has him start boxing and working out with a punching bag. Around the same time the artist, who is half-Choctaw and half-Cherokee, has been meeting with traditional Native American artists who tell him how the practices of dancing, drumming and beading have saved their lives. These experiences lead him to make a breakthrough in his work. Instead of focusing on painting, he begins to adorn Everlast vinyl punching bags like those he has been using at the boxing gym in extravagant styles inspired by Native American beadwork, pop culture, and everyday life. Along with beads, he adds tassels, sequins, brass and steel studs, yarn, chains, and sundry items. Some of the bags feature beaded texts quoting everyone from Simone de Beauvoir to Public Enemy.
Tuhin Dass Exile Poems: In the Labyrinth of HomesicknessBy Tony Leuzzi
OCT 2022 | Books
From an interview that follows Dass new collection of poetry, Exile Poems: In the Labyrinth of Homesickness, the writer says, I am a Bengali and Bangladeshi first. Some people want to define me by my religion, but I want to be known by my culture, which is Bengali.