PETRO MOYSAENKO
Thing about Things
Where has all the gone
Siphoned from your banks to trim with valuation
Where has all the gone
Siphoned from your banks to trim with valuation
In my living room I have a painting of my living room.
Like each year, Maryann is soaking raisins
My father begot me without a sound
I grow up
without new words
View our 2023 James Welch Prize winners and finalists in this online folio, featuring the full poems of m.s. RedCherries and Nicole Wallace.
it would be easier
to travel outside the lines
An “other”-oriented text, Breath on a Coal, with its promiscuous curiosities, its investments in recovering our own animality, articulates the disorders of our human subjectivities.
One place, or two, to start: beauty and use.
From the blood of these knuckles
a red tree grows.
She shouldn’t have written