The Portable Boog Reader 13/ Amy King
I Left While the Light Looked NormalThe rules are collapsing, but my bowl still works. I'm eating soup from a government paper, folded. My spoon? Also made of words. My neighbor cuts his...
The Portable Boog Reader 13/ Chris Stroffolino
Memory Flipping through your grandma’s fading frayed, you find a photo that does not seem as happy as the feeling you thought you were had by when it was being...
The Portable Boog Reader 13/ Edwin Torres
the enveloping vamoose there’s a particular bodysuit i wear a specific suitcase i carry made of exactly the same volume every day — at every moment of the sun i...
The Portable Boog Reader 13/ John Mulrooney
Cento for Harlan from Padgett, Lamantia, Corso, & Berrigan there appears the image of the man Of greenlit panic and jellied fiascos Thoroughbreds and workhorses flat on their sides...
The Portable Boog Reader 13/ Laird Hunt
"They Eat" Dead The, incognito on the way to their gig, take their chow at a new canteen north of Jaya where the rigs are clean, the chippers are sharp...
The Portable Boog Reader 13/ Caroline Hagood
Phoenix 1. The vet requests a stool sample. We got the dog two weeks ago and the children named her after a shared enthusiasm for Greek mythology. So, the...
The Portable Boog Reader 13/ Kimberly and Ian Wilder
Pandemic Blues We’re writing this poem together in this house during the pandemic We don’t have much choice The house is small – Hey! Get out of the doorway! The...
The Portable Boog Reader 13/ Magus Magnus
From Infra Digzone of totalityred hot branding ironcelestial eventimprinted on the retinaforeveroh immensityfretting Guernicahistorical nuancesun and moon lineupto grieve two peoples at oncealong a blazing pathof umbrageof darknessof crimewhat is...
The Portable Boog Reader 13/ Ethel Rackin
My ProfessionI worked at a prestigious school. People kind of didn’t believe it. I worked as a layperson. People ignored me. Whether the money I got was mine I told...
The Portable Boog Reader 13/ Joe Elliot
Achievement On the way up, I breathe the mountain air, or rather the mountain air breathes me. The rotten timber and dead leaves, the damp and shadowy new growth inundate...