Tuesday, July 29, 2025

Tuesday poem #643 : Colin Browne : From A Cup of Tea and a Tin of Fish

 

 

1.
fold the table
put it away 

the books
must go
on the floor 

sand generously

 

2.
nibbled cladding 

a lost grammar

 

3.
whiffed
thyme 

 

4.
all roads
lead to
one place 

avoid roads

 

5.
only one thing
for so long 

so, so long

 

6.
04:10, let the wind do its work
heal this wound 

 

7.
my great aunt
on the lawn
with the Bren gun 

taking a bead
on deadheads
in Cow Bay 

 

8.
i’m making a list
of all the hands
i’ve held in mine
what is my name?
phantom-chaser

  

9.
it’s only the new sewer pipe
going in
but now we’ll know
the sound of tanks
in the streets
at night

  

10.
the brother on the grass
behind the pink Safeway
legs tucked up into his coat
four hundred days
into the pandemic 

 

11.
great aunt at the woodstove
plunging a stick
in and out
of an open kettle
churning smalls
in Kelowna 

 

12.
lockets on strings
around their necks
who is that? 

this i’m told is my mother
and that is my father

  

13.
fellings?
who’s asking?

  

14.
a lark ascending
without a lark
Marx, mute, in the park 

spring peepers
tonight, i hear you
loud and Clare 

 

15.
perhaps the lost one 

saw clearly

  

16.
the stars on my shirt tonight 

albaplena in the upper field

 

17.
David McFadden, in the bookstore 

recommending The Confessions
of Saint Augustine*

  

18.
farewell old guys in regimental ties 

my savings are more lethal                         

 

19.
i’d like to step out of history

  

20.
if a word becomes a flag
burn it
 

28 July 2025

 

 

* Nelson, B.C. September 1982.

 

 

 

Two recent collaborations between Colin Browne and composer Alfredo Santa Ana were premiered in early April at the Fox Cabaret in Vancouver. A collection of Colin’s texts for music, entitled Into the Air, is in the works. His new book, The Possible, is an account of the visits by Surrealist artists to the Northwest Coast in the early 20th century. The book details the experiences of Kurt Seligmann and his wife Arlette in Hazelton, B.C., during the summer of 1938, and the journeys of Wolfgang Paalen, Alice Rahon, and Eva Sulzer from Alaska to Vancouver Island from June-August 1939.

the Tuesday poem is curated by rob mclennan

 

Tuesday, July 22, 2025

Tuesday poem #642 : Ashley D. Escobar : Jack Micheline Place

 


the lines aren’t long enough on a phone
& I don’t know what to offer but my youth

suffering from emotional jet lag you’ve

got a home in me covered in blanket 

like a sandwich scraping my nails on 

barnes & noble wifi just to eat dubai

chocolate out of a trash can back at

vesuvio like when did my life ever begin

having the extra-dry martini I craved 

since I was fifteen now I wish there 

were more hours in the day I haven’t

suffered from instant nostalgia in so long

it’s been petal storms since I’ve stepped out 

of myself to look at the life we’ve shared

two years & now it’s almost summer 

again that’s why I love san francisco 

year-around fog & can’t we just stand here 

forever on Jack Micheline Place

 

 

 

 

Ashley D. Escobar is a writer and filmmaker from San Francisco, residing in New York City. Eileen Myles selected her debut poetry collection GLIB (2025) as the Changes Book Prize winner. She graduated from Bennington College and holds an MFA in fiction from Columbia University. Her work has appeared in The DriftThe Brooklyn Rail, and Hobart, among others.

the Tuesday poem is curated by rob mclennan

Tuesday, July 15, 2025

Tuesday poem #641 : R. Kolewe : from Emergent Occasions

Tuesday, 3:51pm, partly cloudy & warm earlier, clouds coming in from the north, variegated greys & dull steel blue.

 

A parallel text, I said, maybe
cutting up & scattering holograms
means doing some things again the same
or different, I’m not sure. 

But there’s variation & sameness
on another page a list
of place names, every list always
incantation, algorithm, fiction. 

Implication of temporal order
& a certain tone of voice.
I’ve theorized a structure.
A provisional structure, almost 

forgetting this tipping point, today
the vernal equinox.
Or was that yesterday? It moves.
It’s ok, I said I would edit this later.

 

 

 

R. Kolewe has published four collections of poetry, A Net of Momentary Sapphire (Talonbooks, 2023), The Absence of Zero (Book*hug, 2021), Inspecting Nostalgia (Talonbooks, 2017), and Afterletters (Book*hug, 2014) as well as several chapbooks. He lives in Toronto.
kolewe.net 

the Tuesday poem is curated by rob mclennan

 

Tuesday, July 08, 2025

Tuesday poem #640 : Michael Chang : BAD SISTERS

 

Mum’s the word

Pimped-out country

Thick stream of horsecock

That bacon bloat

Cunty Cullen

Taking the piss

Don’t piss me off

U don’t know shit from shinola

An absinthe rinse

We polish the knob

At the artist’s request

These images are no longer available online

 

 

 

Michael Chang (they/them) is the author of many volumes of poetry, including SYNTHETIC JUNGLE (Northwestern University Press, 2023), TOY SOLDIERS (Action, Spectacle, 2024), and THINGS A BRIGHT BOY CAN DO (Coach House Books, 2025). They won the Poetry Project's Brannan Prize and edited Lambda Literary's Emerge anthology. Their work has appeared in such publications as AGNI, the American Poetry Review, the Harvard Review, the Iowa Review, and POETRY. They are judging Cream City Review's 2025 Prize in Poetry. They live in Manhattan.

the Tuesday poem is curated by rob mclennan