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Me and Gary, brooding (September 2004)


Jeremy's journal

We poets will write a thousand words to get at a single one.

Roberto Bolaño

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Monday, January first

🦋 Círculos

¡Felicidades al año nuevo, herman@s poetas!

posted evening of January first: Respond
➳ More posts about Poetry

Sunday, December 31st, 2017

🦋 I dream of Antwoman

Deviant Madonna of the ants,
she listens to their chants,
she catches every glance,
she wants to but she can't...
Is this love?
Is this love?

posted afternoon of December 31st, 2017: 1 response
➳ More posts about Projects

Saturday, December 30th, 2017

So what about a mashup of "In the Penal Colony" and "The Library of Babel"?

"So the prisoner goes on dying his inexorable death, his improbable death. The sentence engraved into his flesh mutates slowly, becomes itself the story, becomes all stories, an encyclopaedia of human knowledge written for all eternities on bodies which will rot away. The executioner turns away from the slaughter, lights a cigarette, walks slowly across the grounds to his barracks."

posted morning of December 30th, 2017: 1 response

Sunday, December third, 2017

🦋 Syndication

READIN syndication is once again live (after an interval of some years) at In case you're using Google Reader to manage your blog subscriptions... or you know, Feedly or something.

posted evening of December third, 2017: Respond
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🦋 Ani'nin sessizliği

Yet, can’t we do better than silence? Today, each student will receive a musical score and a instrument designed to imitate birds. A birdcall. Once in Ani everyone will hide in the ruins and start calling the birds. At first a few cries will interrupt the silence, then a melody will grow until a chorus of bird calls echo across the valley all the way to Armenia. And the singing will go on to the point of exhaustion, until the birds return to Ani and life comes back to the forgotten city.

The silence of Ani from Francis Alÿs on Vimeo.

posted afternoon of December third, 2017: Respond
➳ More posts about Readings

Friday, October 27th, 2017

🦋 No debe ser marinero

No debe ser marinero
quien quiere dejar rastro.
La estela de la barca
se ensancha y despacio
desaparece. Sin hacer ruido
golpea el remo
otra vez contra el agua.

posted evening of October 27th, 2017: 8 responses
➳ More posts about Writing Projects

🦋 Pine branches

Pine branches like spokes
on a rimless wheel


posted afternoon of October 27th, 2017: Respond
➳ More posts about Pretty Pictures


posted afternoon of October 27th, 2017: Respond
➳ More posts about Wallpaper

Tuesday, October 10th, 2017

Deep blues, and reds,
And pastel shades of gray and tan
Are the colours that line Meeker Street

posted afternoon of October 10th, 2017: Respond

Monday, September 25th, 2017

🦋 Flesh and bones

Flesh and bones, I wear you like an overcoat.
Flesh and bones, you carry me around
like a favorite toy.

posted morning of September 25th, 2017: Respond
➳ More posts about Identification

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