The Unknown Crying Man House Museum was created by the artist following his fascination with one of the fifty-two men arrested for “debauchery” aboard a floating nightclub in Cairo in 2001, the man photographed crying into a white cloth he was using to cover his face, and whose photo has become a symbol of LGBTQ+ oppression in Egypt. In Khaled’s museum, the artist imagines a home the Crying Man may have taken refuge in after the trial, self-exiling to Istanbul. One photograph from the Crying Man’s collection, “on loan” to the gallery, depicts an unpopulated coastal scene where two plastic chairs are stacked on top of each other. Titled Perfect Lovers (Alexandria), the chairs reference Felix Gonzalez-Torres’s synchronized clocks — but I like the question, because it makes me think ... where could the revisionist come from? Intuition tells me that the revisionist could have been born in one of Nancy Holt’s Sun Tunnels in the Great Basin Desert out in northwestern Utah. Since they’re composed of four concrete cylinders that are 18 feet in length and 9 feet in diameter and arranged in an open cross format and aligned to frame the sun on the horizon during the summer and winter solstices I’m guessing the revisionist was born on the ... summer solstice. It had to be the summer solstice. Or was it the winter solstice? Maybe it was the winter solstice ... In 2018 Dia acquired Sun Tunnels with support from Holt-Smithson Foundation. Dia relies on your help to preserve the artwork for all of us now and for future generations. Please leave Sun Tunnels and the natural environment exactly as you found it. Visitors must “leave no trace” at the site. Carry out any waste with you. Do not tamper with the artwork, make fire pits, or trample vegetation. I do not mean deceitful but not navigable; for example, if I perceived things in the same way as a praying mantis, my perception would not be misleading, but my body ... whoa. (In this sense, some forms of madness could be traced back to the onset of an alien perceptual apparatus, or be the result of a forcing to behave in ways extraneous to the body, as happens to the elephants of commercial circuses). But since everything is connected to all the others, the ruin ends up involving the revisionist. Even though money and politics are not born with us, and it seems impossible to question them. I mean, my piano teacher has been teaching for a long time, maybe for fifty years. To keep time, to go in time, you have to dedicate yourself to every joke, without rushing to get to the end. Next week I will hold a writing seminar in a prison where hundreds of women are being held, themselves victims of crime, many of them mothers. In the period following my mother’s death, I often dreamed of it. In one case, for example, I had to remember to ask the right question to the right person to access the next phase of the trip. But it turns out that there’s a sharp difference between the way logic describes hyperobjects, and the way math does, and I’m with the math. Like every energy-matter state in the universe has a specific frequency range. There are no transparent oceans. There are as it were green ones, yellow ones, blue ones ... and photographs. Mixing and overlaying topographical maps with images of meat,
trying to face the city at the bottom of the sea,
the city of dead reefs and jellyfish,
but instead seeing the city in the sky,
I, the Monkey King, stole in here —
and now I must steal away.
Think of a snake and it will be a poison snake,
as if there were no snakes but poison snakes;
think of a shark and it will be a man-eating shark,
as if the whole world were Disney.
In traditional places there are as many ghosts as people,
or even more ghosts than people, or even
ghosts and no people.
I hear someone talking and know that he’s a ghost,
but I don’t want to mention it.
The Warring States ended in 221 BCE.
“The sun in the meridian may be the sun in decline,” said Huizi.
It adds to the light from eyes an extra light.
That is also true of emerald light.
But red light better suits those with a taste for mythology.
As reflected light it is often paler than the light from a rhodochrosite.
Such a red light might fall on a bulky, space-suited figure.
But because I am not originally from Los Angeles, or even California, I do not know the names of most trees. Everything feels spidery and shaggy here, or toothy and pointy. And the green is a kind of grayish green. The trees are turning brown fast, leaving mounds of dead leaves piled up between parked cars. These piles are taller than most urban animals. Does the woodpecker ever come back around and gently, tenderly return an insect? Who can explain the logic of a dream? I am at a boba shop that offers mouth-watering flavors. I can look up and see Mount Baldy. The Tongva call it Yoát, or Joat, meaning snow, and the top still freezes over in the winter. Walking up there, at least for now, you can be in a whole other season. Not far away, if you listen closely you can hear parrots singing. If you feel closely, the singing become burning, the burning becomes water filling the cracks, and the water becomes a mass, and the mass becomes hollow. Then the house sold, was fixed up, the possible gangster and the other people moved out, and the homeless man disappeared. Which is to say I managed to fight of a sudden panic attack this morning by feeling the sensations and breathing. Could be the assassination of the two black people at Kroger’s by the guy who couldn’t get into the black church, could be the pipe bomber, could be the synagogue shooting, could be the photos of all the ribs of the starving Yemenis, could be Trump saying what me worry, could be none of those things. The visible merges with the invisible, all while hurtling forward as an unclassifiable entity. Since there exists little if any vocabulary for the seeming riddle posed by internal technology, the mind, the construction company ended up finding 411 graves, and kept all of those remains in a trailer for a long time. Or come by my place and we’ll hike over a couple blocks to Palisades del Rey, an old subdivision condemned in the ‘60s for being due west of LAX — but breaking in is easy, and the old streets are still there with the jets going 20 feet above, and there are hundreds of endangered El Segundo Blue Butterflies. Pythagoras appears. This enfolding continues the work of thresholding, extending the domain of the animate into all that can be held in the hand, eye or mind. As for the completely human and dandiacal gland, trans-corporeal and trans-historical, in the form of the “quick built” (suddenly appearing?) moon: David Hume is depicted as wearing a rather curious hat. Variously described by philosophy portraiture hat scholars as a “salmon-coloured turban” and “a scholar’s cap of rich but well-worn velvet,” it is an amorphous object, and a powerful lure for interpretation, in that it shows us as picture-viewers what we want to see. In contrast with Ramsay’s later, more famous portrait of Hume (dating from 1766), Hume is not wearing his customary wig; we might read this as meaning that he has replaced the formal sign of the public disputer with something in which we catch the philosopher at home, at leisure; we might also read it as a signifier of eighteenth-century Orientalism that saw the trappings of Eastern everyday life (the turban or various kinds of head-wrap) as fodder for an elaborate Western dressing-up game of the public home life. This is the kind of hat described in the last section of Lila Matsumoto’s Soft Troika as “those hats worn by Enlightenment philosophers,” “like fezes but more squat [...] sybarites often wear them.” Why would these hats be favoured by sybarites? Because of their softness against the head? “High jinks in the cathedral” is preceded by an image of a room in a museum or library with study tables and books on the wall and a display piece, perhaps the skeleton of an animal set up for display. What do these three objects have to do with one another? “Some of these Computer Dances have been used and more may be used as scores for dance.” My own early inclination was to read them as rivers (the u-shaped meander at the bottom right reminded me of the Thames as it flows around the Isle of Dogs), and rivers can indeed be walled off to prevent flooding. At the middle bottom the current loops back over itself a couple of times, while inside the upper enclosure there is not much current at all — the movement is often broken by patches of white space or horizontal hatching. Are we looking down on the jammed motorways of a captive population? Are blood cells or bacteria teeming through an artificial environment in a lab? “Overtures end, sometimes preceding no other performance.”
At which point an overall colour emerges of green, or red — a
pattern transforms itself, and not always within the same logical
framework of its creation — definition is the cause of this loop, is
the loop itself, and appears [...] liquid, sometimes as an oil, perhaps
spreading out in a reflective sheen, or acting as a solvent,
a shadowpuppet, with a human’s hands casting the shadow
of a slobbering wolfish dog against a blue wall.
One way to understand this would be to wonder how Blake’s Songs of Innocence & Experience would read if his distinctions between the two states were collapsed into a general state of confusion and doubt.
We escape by a stream, we swim backwards
We carry baskets on our shoulders full of herb books
The bulk of the piece is a set of notes on the Brontë sisters’ elaborately imagined world of Gondal, which took poetic form in their Gondal poems. The parallels between paracosms, detailed imaginary worlds, and any conception of a State become the peak of this theoretical inquiry into what to make of the bullshit that is going on all over the world right now. The task of a poem then is to consciously tease out how much of these fictions we really require, and how much causes us to turn our world, the only place we could really find our common rest, into hell. YouTube has lots of ASMR videos. Which is to say that “At every cleaving, the edges are cauterized. This results in an incremental, though infinitesimal, loss of mass.”
import time
import os
import re
import random
import argparse
import urllib
import itertools
import bs4
from bs4 import BeautifulSoup
import multiprocessing
from multiprocessing.dummy import Pool
genre_list = [‘portrait’, ‘landscape’, ‘genre-painting’, ‘abstract’, ‘religious-painting’,
‘cityscape’, ‘sketch-and-study’, ‘figurative’, ‘illustration’, ‘still-life’,
‘design’, ‘nude-painting-nu’, ‘mythological-painting’, ‘marina’, ‘animal-painting’,
‘flower-painting’, ‘self-portrait’, ‘installation’, ‘photo’, ‘allegorical-painting’,
‘history-painting’, ‘interior’, ‘literary-painting’, ‘poster’, ‘caricature’,
‘battle-painting’, ‘wildlife-painting’, ‘cloudscape’, ‘miniature’, ‘veduta’,
‘yakusha-e’, ‘calligraphy’, ‘graffiti’, ‘tessellation’, ‘capriccio’, ‘advertisement’,
‘bird-and-flower-painting’, ‘performance’, ‘bijinga’, ‘pastorale’, ‘trompe-loeil’,
‘vanitas’, ‘shan-shui’, ‘tapestry’, ‘mosaic’, ‘quadratura’, ‘panorama’, ‘architecture’]
style_list = [‘impressionism’, ‘realism’, ‘romanticism’, ‘expressionism’,
‘post-impressionism’, ‘surrealism’, ‘art-nouveau’, ‘baroque’,
‘symbolism’, ‘abstract-expressionism’, ‘na-ve-art-primitivism’,
‘neoclassicism’, ‘cubism’, ‘rococo’, ‘northern-renaissance’,
‘pop-art’, ‘minimalism’, ‘abstract-art’, ‘art-informel’, ‘ukiyo-e’,
‘conceptual-art’, ‘color-field-painting’, ‘high-renaissance’,
‘mannerism-late-renaissance’, ‘neo-expressionism’, ‘early-renaissance’,
‘magic-realism’, ‘academicism’, ‘op-art’, ‘lyrical-abstraction’,
‘contemporary-realism’, ‘art-deco’, ‘fauvism’, ‘concretism’,
‘ink-and-wash-painting’, ‘post-minimalism’, ‘social-realism’,
‘hard-edge-painting’, ‘neo-romanticism’, ‘tachisme’, ‘pointillism’,
‘socialist-realism’, ‘neo-pop-art’]
parser = argparse.ArgumentParser()
parser.add_argument(“--genre”, help=“which genre to scrape”, choices=genre_list, default=None)
parser.add_argument(“--style”, help=“which style to scrape”, choices=style_list, default=None)
parser.add_argument(“--num_pages”, type=int, help=“number of pages to scrape (leave blank to download all of them)”, default=1000)
parser.add_argument(“--output_dir”, help=“where to put output files”)
num_downloaded = 0
num_images = 0
def get_painting_list(count, typep, searchword):
try:
time.sleep(3.0*random.random()) # random sleep to decrease concurrence of requests
url = “https://www.wikiart.org/en/paintings-by-%s/%s/%d”%(typep, searchword, count)
soup = BeautifulSoup(urllib.request.urlopen(url), “lxml”)
regex = r’https?://uploads[0-9]+[^/\s]+/\S+\.jpg’
url_list = re.findall(regex, str(soup.html()))
count += len(url_list)
return url_list
except Exception as e:
print(‘failed to scrape %s’%url, e)
def downloader(link, genre, output_dir):
global num_downloaded, num_images
item, file = link
filepath = file.split(‘/’)
#savepath = ‘%s/%s/%d_%s’ % (output_dir, genre, item, filepath[-1])
savepath = ‘%s/%s/%s’ % (output_dir, genre, filepath[-1])
try:
time.sleep(0.2) # try not to get a 403
urllib.request.urlretrieve(file, savepath)
num_downloaded += 1
if num_downloaded % 100 == 0:
print(‘downloaded number %d / %d...’ % (num_downloaded, num_images))
except Exception as e:
print(“failed downloading “ + str(file), e)
def main(typep, searchword, num_pages, output_dir):
global num_images
print(‘gathering links to images... this may take a few minutes’)
threadpool = Pool(multiprocessing.cpu_count()-1)
numbers = list(range(1, num_pages))
wikiart_pages = threadpool.starmap(get_painting_list, zip(numbers, itertools.repeat(typep), itertools.repeat(searchword)))
threadpool.close()
threadpool.join()
pages = [page for page in wikiart_pages if page ]
items = [item for sublist in pages for item in sublist]
items = list(set(items)) # get rid of duplicates
num_images = len(items)
if not os.path.isdir(‘%s/%s’%(output_dir, searchword)):
os.mkdir(‘%s/%s’%(output_dir, searchword))
print(‘attempting to download %d images’%num_images)
threadpool = Pool(multiprocessing.cpu_count()-1)
threadpool.starmap(downloader, zip(enumerate(items), itertools.repeat(searchword), itertools.repeat(output_dir)))
threadpool.close
threadpool.close()
if __name__ == ‘__main__’:
args = parser.parse_args()
searchword, typep = (args.genre, ‘genre’) if args.genre is not None else (args.style, ‘style’)
num_pages = args.num_pages
output_dir = args.output_dir
main(typep, searchword, num_pages, output_dir)
with 20 lb brown rice
20 lb whole wheat flour
10 lb cornmeal
10 lb good beans — kidney or soy
5 lb sea salt
2 qts good oil
dried fruit and nuts
add nutrients and a sense of luxury
to this diet, a squash or coconut
siphoned via 42 Raptor engines, all burning liquid oxygen and dense methane in carbon fibre composites, then sweating DNA into an AdSense dustpan — and, by googling their services, you agree to these terms. And so, in the absence of [fuck. This is where the creature fell asleep on the section sign. He made a whole page of roerhr/raw/r/ish SOSes. Fuck. Sorry. Fuck] And the ants. I smell, think, they’ve found the motherdough. And yet, as I say (and I realize even now that I am perhaps repeating myself) that isn’t quite how it doesn’t proceeds to unfurl. Which is why Police is strikingly attentive to questions of scale and the modalities through which political terror operates. Entries on police sexual violence and rape, for example, offer conceptual clarity about the articulations of race, gender, space, and class power. Following the lead of Andrea Ritchie and others, the authors describe how policing is animated by a “patriarchal logic,” one which naturalizes rape, murder, and the disappearance of Black and Indigenous women. Patriarchy and sexual violence are not simply about the abuse of power, they argue, but intrinsic to the very functioning of police. The guide identifies how violent masculinity informs the routine activities of policing — like wearing a badge, walking with a police dog, or engaging in the patrol of poor, Black, Brown, Native, LGBTQI+, and working-class communities. In a standout entry on K-9, based on research for Wall’s forthcoming book, they describe “animalized police terror” as an understudied facet of policing. Correia and Wall locate the geographical origins of this form of terror in New York City, where K-9s have been used since the early twentieth century to protect private property and reproduce the relations of class power. In turn, how these instruments of state terror produce disfiguring damages on its victims, who describe the experience as being “eaten alive.” I mean,
How do I unfuck my habitat if I dwell inside
the crumbling curve of a large intestine?
A exhausted himself arranging sunflowers.
B drank too much hot water.
C suffered a heart attack passing a toilet roll to his comrade.
D lost his breath while playing hide-and-seek.
E was poisoned from the ink in the newspapers.
F stared too long at the air.
[...]
N lost balance and fell off the bench.
O laughed.
P died after squeezing pimples on his arms.
Q simply failed to wake up.
When we open the casings we discover forks, engine oil, pulmonary
indications, crushed
buttons.
offal, ossicle, epidermal crumbs [...] we will
open the casing
Untitled Gelatin
Silver Print
On Paper On
Stucco On Canvas
On Concrete
Apotheosis:
Anonymous fragment. Frag
Ment.
Figure 150, Figure 151:
Harp
Harp
With Bridge Harp
Lute
One-key
Xylophone
Slit
Gong
Trumpet Gong
Gong
Mallet
Whistle
Rattle
Drum
You sit down, you sigh. You stand up, you sigh. You wouldn’t call it an illness; why not? Forget all that, the world says. Don’t wear sunglasses in the house, the world says. This makes the first person singular a symbol for something. Shit is fucked up and gorgeous, which is, according to Robin Coste Lewis, a better translation than all life is suffering. It is 130 pages, with bibliography, 17-page index and Utopia Address Book. Really, there is so much pleasure in this book. I was in such a warm buzzy space reading it, especially after watching a seagull stand on top of another seagull. But there were military jets flying back and forth over the coast from Eglin Air Force Base, one of the largest bombing and training ranges in the US. The jets were the same color as the pelicans. Falafel is misspelled. Did you know a nuclear reactor’s efficiency is 1%? “So great was our famine, that a Savage we slew, and buried, the poorer sort tooke him up againe and eat him ... boyled and stewed with roots and herbs: And one amongst the rest did kill his wife, powdered her, and had eaten part of her before it was knowne ... now whether shee was better roasted, boyled or carbonado’d, I know not, but of such a dish as powdered wife I never heard of. This was that time, which still to this day we called the starving time ...” No wonder the first president was in possession of an awful mouth. Abscesses festered; decay triumphed. At age 24, the first extraction. Twenty years later, incisors, canines or cuspids were gone. As he savored the gnarly taste of immortality, the rosy-cheeked progenitor was “indisposed with an aching tooth and swelled and inflamed gums;” dentures mauling the gums. When he spoke these words: “No people can be bound to acknowledge and adore the invisible hand, which conducts the affairs of men more than the people of the United States,” there was only one tooth in the foul mouth. As words billowed out of the acrid cavity, the fetor wafted, thick enough to see. It should have choked frogs; it should have made men sputter, but instead, swarming bots swallowed the miasma and spewed out sulfuric brimstone, the thickening substance gumming nation. Meanwhile, Father America worried about derisory sniggers about the slave teeth now rooted in his mouth. Then comes the Donner party: a chorus of bearded beings, owls mounted on monstrous snakes slithering through and swallowing up wel mel ti homeland in the winter of 1846-47. Like in Jamestown, the white hooters survived by feasting on human flesh. The first one to be devoured was Antonio, the Mexican. The next ones consumed were Eema Ochej and Queyuen, two Miwok Cosumne guides who tried to escape the feeding frenzy but were eaten nonetheless. So, the West was won. Our forebears ate the mother, feasted on Indian, savored the wife, spooned sugar from the skulls of Chinese skeletons. So why do white women vote overwhelmingly for Trump? Researchers have known about the Slow One, also called the Niland Geyser, since the 1950s. It formed when earthquakes caused deep cracks underground that allowed gases to move upward and escape at the surface, causing bubbling mud pools, the Los Angeles Times reported. Sometime in the last few years the Slow One started moving, first 60 feet over a few months and then 60 feet in one day. Now it’s approaching some railroad tracks. Which reminds me, the tracks remind me, they remind me of a Steven Seagal movie in which a train was going over a bridge, maybe it was in the Alps, anyway we were enrolled in a class held across a bridge. A bridge transformed by a sequence of bridges constructed with concrete and wood. An unfinished twine weaving of bridges and steps over invisible canals. No bike ramp. Lacking maintenance. A Chutes and Ladders type of bridge with no chutes and no ladders. A bridge I would have to jump from one side of to the next. A bridge with discreet passageways for those who need to break between leaps. The class we attended focused on radical movements and mobilization. At some point the poet Monica Hand shares her experience in previous movements — the experience of taking on leadership roles and knowing when to stand amongst the congregation. The instructor is pleased with her contribution. I stare. Does she know? Does she know that she’s ... in the dream I am reaching for her hand, grappling with and how should I confide to her. “I have to tell you something. After class.” Everyone in class stares at me confused. The instructor looks concerned. The bridge over the invisible canal shifts and I am now underneath and between a stop on the bridge. Here, there is a little shop with hand-painted recyclable cups and compose friendly spoons. A sign at its entrance reads: Do Not Take Photos. I order a German sausage and Jamaican coco bread, but a petite Japanese girl won’t serve me. I’ve lost the opportunity to tell Monica what I believe she desperately needs to know. I dreamt about my father after he died, too. I was never sure if I should tell him, so I just said things like, “Dad, uh ... why don’t you sit down?” And he said, “Son, listen carefully:
metal dust or filings fine sand
shattered glass materials for polishing
hard gravelly substances
stick in the tip of a pen and bend
a small amount of corrosive acid lacquer
linseed oil regular spit
knotted balls of human hair
threads dead insects
a fistful of hard grains such as rice or wheat
sawdust or hair
rubber crumbs from old rubber bands
or erasers
when the machine is paused you can make a
small hole in the fuel line
cover it with wax
a small cut in the wire insulation
loosen or remove rings and screw nuts
press in some grease spill dust and dirt
make a small hole in the tank
as the engine starts up the wax will
melt as it burns with the gas
a sticky goo forms and spreads
as it swells the steam is blocked
the air bubbles the circulation it
will need disassembling and
repair soft scraped finishes
engines will gradually swell and
choke break burn and
always embrace things, people earth
sky stars, as I do, freely and with
the appropriate sense of space. That
is your inclination, known in the heavens
and you should follow it to hell, if
necessary, which I doubt.
Go back to sleep now
and I may leave a tiny poem
in that brain of yours as my farewell.”
[Note: Sources: Kaitlyn A. Kramer, “I want you to know that I am hiding something from you”, at BOMB, 25 Oct 018 (re Mahmoud Kahled: I want you to know that I am hiding something from you at Helena Anrather gallery in New York); Miranda Mellis, quoted in Elisabetta Rizzo, “‘Being a writer means reacting’. Interview with Miranda Mellis” (tr. Google), at Altri Animali, 21 Oct 018; “Nancy Holt, Sun Tunnels”, at Dia:; Miranda Mellis, quoted in Elisabetta Rizzo, “‘Being a writer means reacting’. Interview with Miranda Mellis” (tr. Google), at Altri Animali, 21 Oct 018; Timothy Morton, “New Idea about Hyperobjects!”, at Ecology without Nature, 22 Oct 018; blurb for Tomoyuki Koseko, Mimetic Maps, at shashasha; Xi Chuan, “Eight Fragments”, “Abstruse Thoughts at the Panjiayuan Antiques Market” (tr. Lucas Klein), at The Leeds Centre for New Chinese Writing, Oct 018; Jackson Mac Low, “2nd Light Poem for Diane Wakoski – 10 June 1962”, quoted in Jerome Rothenberg, “Diane Wakoski: Six new poems from LADY OF LIGHT, following an older ‘Light Poem’ by Jackson Mac Low”, at Poems and Poetics, 26 Oct 018; JBR; Kenji Liu, Brent Armendinger, Steve Abee, Jessica Ceballos y Campbell, Eric Howard, quoted in Sesshu Foster, “Los Angeles, City of Poets”, at Los Angeles Review of Books, 24 Oct 018; JBR; Will Alexander, Randy Cauthen, quoted in Sesshu Foster, “Los Angeles, City of Poets”, at Los Angeles Review of Books, 24 Oct 018; Arul Benito Gerard, “Letters Against the Firmament by Sean Bonney (Enitharmon, 2015)”, Ellen Dillon, “3 Summers by Lisa Robertson (Coach House Books, 2016)”, Linda Kemp, and Calum Gardner, quoted in Gardner’s “Lease Prise Redux by Linda Kemp (Materials Press, 2016)”, Calum Gardner, and Lila Matsumoto, quoted in Gardner’s “Soft Troika by Lila Matsumoto (If A Leaf Falls Press, 2016)”, matt martin, “Computer Dances by Jennifer Pike Cobbing (Veer, 2017)”, Mike Saunders, and Iain Morrison, quoted in Morrison’s “Dark Pool Ripple by Mike Saunders (Lighthouse Press, 2016)”, Joseph Persad, “Common Rest by Holly Pester et al. (Test Centre, 2016)”, Sarah Hayden, quoted in Mike Saunders, “Turnpikes by Sarah Hayden (Sad Press, 2017)”, at Hix Eros 8; Robbie Barratt, “Modified implementation of DCGAN focused on generative art. Includes pre-trained models for landscapes, nude-portraits, and others”, at GitHub (see Zachary Small, “Christie’s Sells ‘AI-Generated’ Art for $432,500 As Controversy Swirls Over Creators’ Use of Copied Code”, at Hyperallergic, 29 Oct 018); Diane Di Prima, Revolutionary Letter #3, at Dispatches from the Poetry Wars, 3 Oct 017; Juha Virtanen, quoted in Calum Gardner, “‘Enhanced Doom Gaming Engine’ by Juha Virtanen”, and Sarah Hayden, “‘A Lecture (2)’”, at Hix Eros 8; JBR; Jordan T Camp, review of David Correia and Tyler Wall, Police: A Field Guide, at Society and Space, 30 Oct 018; JBR; Nicole Steinberg, “Gag Me”, at Dusie, 30 Oct 018; Tammy Ho Lai-Ming, “Official causes of death in a Chinese prison”, quoted in Robert Kiely, “Hula Hooping by Tammy Ho Lai-Ming”, Frances Kruk, quoted in Colin Lee Marshall, “lo-fi frags in-progress by Frances Kruk (Veer, 2015)”, at Hix Eros 7; Robin Coste Lewis, “Invocation: Blessing the Boat”, in Voyage of the Sable Venus and Other Poems; Claudia Rankine, Citizen, quoted in Amy De’Ath, “Against Objectivism: Claudia Rankine’s Citizen”, at Academia.edu; JBR; Nick Sturm, “Utopia: Review”, at Tender Buttons Press; JBR; Beatriz E. Balanta and Mary Walling Blackburn, “Sticky Notes, Part B (4–17)”, at e-flux 94; JBR; Laura Geggel, “A Gurgling Mud Pool Is Creeping Across Southern California Like a Geologic Poltergeist”, at Live Science, 2 Nov 018; JBR; Latasha N Nevada Diggs, “ORS Poetica (now infused with ghee…)”, at Harriet, 18 Apr 017; JBR; Ida Börjel, quoted in “Two Poets — Ida Börjel & Amiri Baraka”, at BLACKOUT ((poetry & politics)), 4 Nov 016; Frank O’Hara, “A True Account of Talking to the Sun at Fire Island”, at Robert Ronnow Poetry]
