trve evie gf

new project

collage with leftover chunks of scanned items from a show flyer

writing on a parking meter that says: “a preternatural thing: wires, ocean, the moon”

im still on a diy or die ethos. considering getting further into collage. continuously inspired by @jpb.bsky.social

I couldn’t believe he said it. But that’s the way we lived. It existed. I’ve been at this stand for years and I think I see how the wool is pulled over our eyes gradually, so that each of us thinks of ourselves as falling asleep before it happens, then wakes to a pang of guilt: was it that other me again? Why did I take my mind off the roast, as it turned hypnotically on its spit, and now it’s charred beyond recognition?

John Ashbery

im so zine coded im thinking of starting to publish chapbooks💫

FBI RIOT TEAM OUT IN STREETS OF LOS ANGELES
(& GETTING PUSHED OUT BY COMMUNITY ON THE GROUND)

Dozens of FBI, ATF, & DHS agents in camo fatigues with guns out. FUCK THESE GESTAPO PIGS! Angelenos are pushing the feds out!

I’ve Been Thinking about Love Again Vievee Francis Those who live to have it and those who live to give it. Of course there are those for whom both are true, but never in the same measure. Those who have it to give are like cardinals in the snow. So easy and beautifully lit. Some are rabbits. Hard to see except for those who would prey upon them: all that softness and quaking and blood. Those who want it cannot be satisfied. Eagle-eyed and such talons, any furred thing will do. So easy to rip out a heart when it is throbbing so hard. I wander out into the winter. I know what I am.

pleny

so ecstatic when friends put my art up on their wall. brings me joy

10:25 PM Father Tectonic A Chapbook... Done Fever 1 I sat on the floor crying Mother said You are running a fever Father soaked in a bath on Sundays until his skin wrinkled like prunes It was at the trailer motel at the World's Fair in Montreal he spit out her name My father had a job scraping the colour from lightbulbs Now they are frosted Now they are clear Mother washed my long black hair in the sink Snow fell over the eaves Mother said You are running a fever I sat on the floor crying

“My father had a job
scraping the colour
from lightbulbs

Now they are frosted
Now they are clear”

Working on formatting Robert Frede Kenter’s FATHER TECTONIC!

From My Parisian Diary Thirty centimes is all the money I have left But I am full of hope without knowing why. I laugh at the world and laugh at myself Something of a child at thirty-five. It has been a hard life since I ran out of cynicism And stopped selling for a commission Just any newspaper in the world Deciding exclusively on pamphlets of the Left By which I am now earning death by instalment On a starvation diet And the rent is long overdue. Surely this is not a way of earning a living Peddling slogans of a better world In the garrison of troops armed to defend these cruel days. But the struggle must continue And we must open new fronts even in our dreams.

Mbella Sonne Dipoko

cover of a zine entitled FLUIDBOUND by evie and sky, featuring a very wet angel

wrong poem by evie and sky, in a subaru impreza a barren thing birch bark & pines the road is missing a 250 dollar fine & did you know that bright lights bounce off of fog. uh oh! would you like to save 19 minutes? I know a way to skip past the coast guard, hydroplane efficiently, no ditch this time we drove past cross rd, worth shaving off another 5 & what is the soul? instead of road kill in this weather just moss & twigs, in new jersey: car parts, we figure lie about your eta & drunk driving killed 308 on CT roads this year. at the next mile marker i will be a salt marsh.

graffiti on a bridge saying “down with empire, viva tortuguita

ALF members holding rabbits

divorce zine + graff + alf

i love uuuu

cover of a zine entitled FLUIDBOUND by evie and sky, featuring a very wet angel

wrong poem by evie and sky, in a subaru impreza a barren thing birch bark & pines the road is missing a 250 dollar fine & did you know that bright lights bounce off of fog. uh oh! would you like to save 19 minutes? I know a way to skip past the coast guard, hydroplane efficiently, no ditch this time we drove past cross rd, worth shaving off another 5 & what is the soul? instead of road kill in this weather just moss & twigs, in new jersey: car parts, we figure lie about your eta & drunk driving killed 308 on CT roads this year. at the next mile marker i will be a salt marsh.

graffiti on a bridge saying “down with empire, viva tortuguita

ALF members holding rabbits

divorce zine + graff + alf

THINGS THAT MAKE ME NERVOUS Poetry readings. People. Dope. Things I really like.

Anne Waldman

this is all an elaborate hoax

im drinking terrible beer on a train right now

the postee standing in front of a rickety wooden fence at nicht, w a cigarette

a snowy forest scene with an archway of branches drenched in the stuff

a half-frozen pond. in the distance a snow-covered mountain looms

pillars in an abandoned building covered in layers of graffiti

winter months, i’ll go down fighting

YAAAY

a drawing of a girl with long white hair and a pink shirt ALT: a drawing of a girl with long white hair and a pink shirt

theres this pale white vibrating net that always slowly drags upwards which i can see at the peripherals of the very top of my vision. its like a bunch of white raindrops strung together in a net that someone is gathering back up into the sky

"Tortuguita Lives! The struggle continues!"
Drawing on a tree sit platform in the Lincoln Forest in Wilmington, in memory of Manuel Teran aka Tortuguita, a forest defender who was shot and killed by police in the Atlanta, Forest in January 2023.

poem on a wall of a building that days “A BRUISING // OF SORTS, // UN-ENDING // SCAMPERED // BABY // COYOTE

poem on the wall that says NUTHATCH, // THE SNOW

a picture of a bando in the snow

snow & the bando

Radical murals seen around Oventic, an indigenous Zapatista village in Chiapas, Mexico.

On January 1st, 1994 the EZLN (Zapatista Army of National Liberation) launched an armed insurrection in Chiapas against the Mexican state and the NAFTA Free Trade Agreement.

A poem by me for #smallpoemsunday from the new issue of The Glacier. This is from "Classic Crimes," due in May.

a foggy nighttime picture, there are trees on the left and a bare piece of one on the rightmost section, shrouding a field with floodlights at the furthest end of it

a train passes behind trees on a foggy night

evelyn herself, blurry in a field at night, with orange lighting

a small waterfall in a barren winter landscape

baltimore // shenandoah

A picture held us captive. And we could not get outside it, for it lay in our language and language seemed to repeat it to us inexorably.

Wittgenstein

an extra millimeter or so slapped on top occasionally

its the famed light touch of the star trek prosthetics

a sort of ecstatic, bursting form--black, yellows, and some creme-like colors // crystal structures and a bit that actually is a chunk of a pair of pants

recent digital collage

so true sylo