Curated by Canadian writer, editor and publisher rob mclennan, the “spotlight” series appears the first Monday of every month.
statement: have been holding onto these. handle with care
transcription poem 49
SHADOWS BLINKBLINK FIDDLEHEADS SPINE AS I COME CLOSE CLOSER TO A FULL UNDERSTANDING OF GREEN/ BY WHICH I MEAN — THIRSTY, SPILLING THAT CATCHES, THE BELLY OF EARTH WHERE WE BURIED THE GARLIC WHERE THE LIGHT SWITCHES OUT WHAT I AM
still life / still light / still / still
a brother reads at a table, last of the solstice curling into his hair curling into his ear. maple eye-buckets, spit-glossed mouth, cheek a soft i know i’ll never be able to paint
the sky dilutes a clementine rolls a brother
sings a sound for something else to be born in
em/ilie kneifel is a sick slick, poet/critic, reviews editor at The Puritan, creator of CATCH/PLAYD8s, heartworms/blueberries, and also a list. find ’em at emiliekneifel.com, @emiliekneifel, and in Tiohtiá:ke, hopping and hoping.