Status Updates From Neon Vernacular: New and Se...

There’s a split-page poem early on. Left side conversational; right non-diegetic. Not written to be read across lines. But on the last page, the left (“She was doing what women do / even then.”) stretches your eyes to the right (“Coltrane leafs through / the voluminous air for some note / to save us from ourselves”) and you must read
“She was doing what women do to save us from ourselves”

“I press against the taxicab
Window. I’m back here, interfaced
With a dead phosphorescence;
The whole town smells
Like the world’s oldest anger.”

“Song for My Father” is beautiful.