levinskyleo.bsky.social

With marks of question unredactably punctuating her face Worn down by erasure after erasure Of the careful notes she took in the margins Scrubbed from the edges of his blank paged book Till the questions she had ceased asking broke into jagged brittle pink bits of her that scattered the creamy carpet shags But still even there interrogations Roused her in the quiet center of night Harassed her in the bright refractive days The house and its creatures and their wantings Small sticky hands shrieking loud mouths twisted Tore and bit and sucked

some lines and revisions from today

a man in a red shirt is holding a water bottle and says `` you just got jammed '' . Alt: a man in a red shirt is holding a water bottle and says `` you just got jammed '' .

He got jammed

I heard a clip of Marco Rubio talking, I think from the recent hearing, and he said that Venezuelans “have been living their lives in a gangsters paradise”.

I like how so much of the Sonnets veers between more romantic professions like this one and sonnets where the turn is essentially “and that’s why we should sleep together”

That game is so fun

I heard a reporter today say today they cut all the power and told soldiers to just shoot in the dark.

i right this song on tuesday for a hamburger today

omg marko rubio quoted gangsters paradise

i’m so sorry

jesus 30,000 in iran and people have to pay a “bullet tax” to retrieve bodies of loved ones killed

Marco Rubio is not a good liar.

Hey I’m reading next week

you know it’s true, everything i do, i do because stephen and the president told me to

leonard cohen wearing a beret and turtleneck

here’s a little leonard cohen for you

you know it’s true, everything i do, i do because stephen and the president told me to

this is up to 4,505 words it’s going to be a total monstrosity but i’m going to see it through to it’s terrible end

Yeah. It’s like so low effort not to through garbage on the ground

and they leave a trail of garbage

true leadership…the buck stops uh there

my cars outside if you’re ready to take the long walk…

Down cul-de-sacs and lanes with the other pale faces Ceaseless travelers in perpetual return With jawlines darkened by emergent hair returning like Sunday mowed blades of grass Squared in by low white fences in front of a house where she waited With marks of question unredactably punctuating her face Worn down by erasure after erasure Of the careful notes she took in the margins Scrubbing the edges of his blank paged book Till the questions she had ceased asking broke into jagged brittle pink bits of her that scattered the creamy carpet shags But even there she was never alone The house and its creatures always found her Roused her in the quiet center of night Harassed her in the bright refractive days With sticky hands and shrieking loud mouths That twisted and tore and bit and sucked Trampled and stomped and cried and accuse

more revisions. this is really a ridiculous project but i will keep going

i’ve given myself a lot of constraints, trying to anchor things around 10 syllables lines, no punctuation, no stanzas

it’s hard to keep the flow going without reusing overly repeating sentence patterns and rhythms

mitski back in rock mode yes

Roads yet pummeled by ragged winters shifting ice heave hoeing dirt and rock under the compressed and polished black glideways Harnessed by precise white and yellow strips of paint and grassy mounds between opposite streams of traffic Past the steepled church like a staid wedding cake The lit up baseball diamond Down cul-de-sacs and lanes with the other pale faces Ceaseless travelers in perpetual return With jawlines darkened by emergent hair returning like Sunday mowed blades of grass Squared in by low white fences in front of a house where she waited With marks of question unredactably punctuating her pink face Her eraser worn down by erasure after erasure of the careful notes she took in the margins Scrubbing the edges of his blank paged book Till the questions she had ceased asking broke Into jagged brittle pink bits of her that scattered the creamy carpet shags But even there she was never alone The house and its creatures always found her Roused her in the quiet center of night Harassed her in the bright refracting days With sticky hands and shrieking loud mouths That twisted and tore and bit and sucked

today’s lines and revisions

Been stuck on this section for a bit but it’s getting there

this guy is having his first experience being around competent adults who actually care about others

I took a break from grant writing last night to mourn with fellow Iranians. There’s something both validating and heartbreaking about being in a room with ~100 compatriots weeping over the shared tragedy that lives in all our souls.

Have you ever heard this beautiful instrument?

Notes From A Death Star Rec Room By upfromsumdirt palpatine cheats at table tennis; the plastic ball with spontaneous curve, each serve punctuated with force lightning — “ping pong is a pathway to many abilities some consider to be… unnatural” the blinking lights on vader’s chest plate were recycled from a disassembled pinball machine; his bacta tank sits opposite a pool table and has decals of goldfish on it seen only under black light; the tap water in the rec room has midichlorians AND fluoride the blueprints for c3po are framed on the rec room wall with all of his original parts from a damaged pod racer; in dreams threepio still sees himself the landspeeder he was meant to be vader’s chest plate is a wireless hotspot (sometimes

dispensing bantha milk) and the rec room’s wifi password is “DisturbingLackofFaith123” because being pedantic is, apparently, a dark sith’s worst power but the obi-wan dart board was a big hit the remnants of his tattered robe (after dying) became cleaning rags for a kyber crystal counter top; old ben’s saber on a plaque above the bar like a stuffed marlin; flip its switch and light pours out the hilt spelling “dark_side” in white neon. however, the rec room for the second death star was incomplete — mostly just a storage closet for palpatine’s extra clones, but its vending machine for jawa juice, it’s said, was fully armed & operational flawed only by its oddly placed thermal exhaust port one that no one could explain.

cover of Fiyah Literary Magazine's winter 2026 issue with illustrated artwork by Kymani Gayle of a shirtless man with long dreadlocks frolicking amongst a field of brightly colored roses.

thanks to @fiyahlitmag.bsky.social for accepting my poem, Notes From A Death Star Rec Room, for their winter 2026 issue... ❤️

but check out the whole issue for speculative short fiction & other poems — it's just $3.99!!

have been going back to this album a lot lately

dischord.com/release/057/...

YouTube video by art whiskey nation of ulysses live at jabberjaw

what a band.

www.youtube.com/watch?v=bEUZ...

Thanks for this. Such a great song and his fingerpicking is so good

live raccoons inside, by Trash Panda Go Kart 8 track album

we consulted the Trash Panda Tarot and it said RELEASE MUSIC NOW so...

here's LIVE RACCOONS INSIDE by Trash Panda Go Kart, on digital download &/or purple vinyl!

(vinyl to ship in April, download as ASAP as possible)

trashpandagokart.bandcamp.com/album/live-r...

#MusicSky