The Typewriter Project -- AWP 2018

White lights like train tracks on the night ceiling

All the poets in the halogen cavern might as well be stars

but that doesn’t matter

how would it? We couldn’t even hear the footsteps

moving through the hall

couldn’t hear anything but a low murmur

the sound of business maybe

or a low kind of communication

something hushed

self conscious

may the breezes heal you

i son’t really know what to say and just realized i made a typo

and not that she would say any less

my dear one the warrior class


and then she said “That's ok, you are my best friend too

“I’m sorry I haven't been there for you.”

“I still love you.”

you can feel the power dynamic in the room; cotton candied stained—

the stomached summers.

ain't nobody wanna hear about anther white man’s struggle ya heard?

I'm talkin bout t h e  w o m a n, ya heard?

walking down the design of a highway the words don't listen

I went to the lake in Wisconsin with tony in his car that was black

my dad ate my dog

Ribbon oh Ribbon how many miles of ribbon did I type my BA my MA my MFA all on Underwood typewriters. Miles of ribbons thread through cosmos

oceans and black holes.  Denise Low

oh so how i cant wait to be done

with the long goodnight

So just like that, everything had changed.  

it wasn*t perfect and we knew it never would be, but it worked, and we worked, and that was enough.  

Fofor you, but not for me, my mmoonliy girl, how sweet you are, how sweeweet you smell. If i could keep you, please know i would.

  I would, i would, i would.

   Aand so so i no one sshall stop me aas i venture proudlly into and    So i         Shall.               Venturre proudly

  Me and my baby owen are not


but our honey  is xoxo

My name is Lake. My favorite food is pizza. Not pizza.   I have lotaof favorite foods. I love sushi I also love crab. I love every thingthat comes from the sea.  …. Heeello, my family… If anybody is reereaading this onli nine…

Hi, if somebody is reading this online, my name is Emerson.

Iif you touch a stalagmiite they are forever changed

but isnt that tru of everything?

I began.  To settle into serioriousness, but just then a man in swampcostume walked by. There is no hope unlunless we open our souls to the sweet raian!

if youyour gl glassses drentched

then mine drippeingdripping-leaving aa rose-tinted trail in my wawakedripping - bbut dropping letting streaks of claarity shine throughughghand my dr.  —- dear you look the same to me

whiskey stained and oppossum knowing my words so

i wonderr then, what kind of world tthis

could be for you and me

and what kind of world will it be when weare no longer in it

though the white world


 the earth knows their color

This is Zahraa Noorb akhsh.  Youre welcome.  

The typewriter is in herently an  instrumento of brute forc e.   It can. Hurt more than. Thee words them selves. Someti es, anyway.the force is an instrument inherent in brutalitybrutes are instrumental

for thought

and thiought is in residence with incidents of flutes

champagne champagne champagne champagne champagne

give me orchestras of chamgpagne

don’t speak to me of lutes

sing only with the brutes

listen only to the muteshearhear every word unsaid and then a lacunaea sudden disappearceand for ;once nothing els lof consequnuence for once, and

then something

don’t ask me why im obsessed.  


Dont ask me why im obsessed with you

I was only consistently interesred iin you

He wants that burning freezing

Screaming in your driveway kind of love

Ill leave


Only work when you are ready

Only ready when you are work

Only you when work is ready

Only you when ready to work

Only you wwork whenyyou.  

When i was a young boy my father took me into

Leave youru r. Makrj!

Let me go

I am a feather she is a razor blade

let me  go in blade lover

the lover i will not call love

loves who are not my lovers,


but the only people of the future


is forever

or so they say sometsomeytimes thouh.

 U life stops short and death takes you away

i want the touchstones, the gallery of memory

fa tastically effervescentdually derang3ed ob scurity

bln d whisper and blistering

of the space

you say @you aare a telsa battery, co oiled energy and spark<@at the blind tiiger in south tamp pa, after h hours of walking

and stopping to clean

and stopping to clean bird shit off t the blue sailling h.  Hat

only you can prevent wildfires!you.    Y.       Look aat the camera

If every can look natural, that would be so great

Gorgeous the time she took me

To the wooded path beyond the hill she stopped short and bent down picked a huckleberry like it was heaven like it was sacred i watched the sun  

Booth babes t.                    

B ooth babes

 thats what we are i wont pretend to type

A ship sailimg blue velvet

a water goddess drinks the ocean like champagnea coll

A collection of shy humans

get nervy              


They dissolve in water make milk

Even almonds use animal labour

it turn.  

It turns out even bees cn be shy

not all honey is sweet

Where did the time go oh swe   HowowThe beees have anxiety and pop Xanax aas the colony ccolllapsestheas the colony collapses. The queen fiddle-wingsfiddle-wings as home burns.

Rebrebuiuld aawayayudaayuda ayuame ayuameayuameeayuame ayuame ayuo.udame ayuam e no no no por favor por favorjjjjjI*m typing a poem in a booth.

My ideas are rather uncouth—. It*s a little like gambling,  My dumb verbal rambling,Yet sometimes I get to the truth.There*s this woman looking a.  At what*s on the scroll of paper,

Laughing at whatever she is reading, which I did not write and cannot smyself see. This seems like an allegory for something, but damnedif I can put it together. It*s always like that for me; the worldis crowded with meanings that I am just on the verge of apprehending.But I never get there. Help me. Save me, you pellucid thinkers andcosmic understanders out there. Tell me what I should do. Patryanharper”mail.comThis guy walked into a bar with a dog. Bartender comes over: @Get

Outta here, Jake, no dogs allowed.@

@But this dog talks.@@Money talks. Noww get out.@@Fido, name a book in the Bible.@@Roof!@. (Ruth)@Fido, what8s on to of a house?@@Roof!@

@Name a great Yankee outfielder.@@Rooth.@Bartender has had enough. @Bow you get out.@ And he kicked them o.      Outof the bar.On the sidewalk, the dog looks up at his owner with a sad face. @Didyou want me to say DiMaggio?@bri says she goes well with winesshe<s right —that combo,s sublime

Most people are betteras the grapes just get wetterand this malbec is really divine


Nick Adamski

Gave me French

Leessons in Washington Square Park

Nick Adamski doesn*t speak French

Le ve bheme

Aatleast myaatleastmy undergrad anxiety is coveted hherepI

Imto aa daybreak that<s wondrously clear, I rise and tho

Ii arrived herey yesterday the icy promise od desolation

I a.    I.          I arrived here yesterday

The icy promise of desolation diffusing a perpetual splendor

Banished to conquer this laborious voyagetheseereflections glowing with a steady ppurposei left there thhis morning

No sense oof self or where i was headingconfronted by the insignificance of everythingmy senses dulled by the nothingness i leave behind and move forward to coconfront

By evan franco





       My na.   Me is  ma x.           Jdidjf ifv  

Fire Flowerrs Bloom

In tthe warm summer air

Your hadn

Un  unaware

Brushes my bbreast

Aair closw as water soaks her skin inwhatever happened yesterdaywhich was full of strawberries for dinner and ice cream cream lunc h for youtwice.tonight a third or fourth timeas we wait for thunderlate august is always so heavy on the plateautill now i had believed the skywas one size. It isnta lie, ive found out, that this is bigsky countrysmall dreams flourish here. Who  is to say thde that watching g a small storm is a smallldream, that dreaming a lover is a smallaftwernoon under a screaming sky.raracism is alive and well here in florida here in america here in amerikkka houhouston we have a problemeven more aliiive is the mind and heart of the poetpoetry is our salve and our salvatiombut oopenminded ness and willing to engage fights the darkness and let’s in other<s perspectivewe must continue to engage in the act of writing . You should to sinkholemag.comcoffee is my bloodwho would you be without yours

AAAAA lWhen I wwrite on a typewriter, I aAZaI always type @The big dogate the yeloow lemon.@ I have no idea why!  Paatrick O,ConnorI miss the clickety clack typewriter. The sound ,makes me want towork harder to find write words.  Margaret McMullz.  AmaMmm aybe next time it will be forever…. naia t-pi llove youIIloveyou too

Iv cannot be a real writer until I have experirexperienced the clackclaackclackclack of this authenticity.I wwrote wrotwwrote a high school research paper about this qwerty keyboardbu ,issed ou on this difffucult clack clack.nowNow is the time for all good woomengood morning, good morning!says a lot about the nightshe*S a terrible gossipDAY 2 of awp 2018HERE WE GO!!

I<d ssay something of this nature is heartfelt, bureally, this thing is so hard to type on aand probably hneeds more ink. Suuch is the journey of life.HHGAHHHHHhhhidkwhwha  i am doing after the above...i am learning hI mam deffinitely not good at the ttypewriteri<d rather have a pencilcraypn or drops of blood painting my pagethis is going to be murder on mym nailshell, even vintage typos happening today

such is life, i suppose… so I will do my best

and keep plugging away on this lovely antiquated machine

my grandmother used to use to make nurse*s notes.

My grandmother used to make rabbit notes

my GRAND MOTHER used to make rabbit

she is tired of writers who don*t write

i am tired of writers who don*Gt read

and hope you will know them on site

a poem is a better face

for me to see you by

these writers have no faces and no eyes

but you can,t blame them for that.with so much time spent in their own minds,they can lose track of that sort of thing.wwhat doesees she say when she clackclackclack ggot m e easily\\\feeliingliketheamounnt of booze i have consumed since lanining in florida is aappropriaate\\\’

Lkline upon line

Fffalling liimp baloonground bboundamongg

Bbutterfly winggs and blownglass shardshard in the snowand bone hardconcrete in the s. Rain

When do we stop becoming.   Sum of.    Longing, desires/?

How beautiful

Life is beautifultthe sandwi

Tthe sanandwhichh man fffollowed us home. ..once i stop spending money i will start reading the books

Waves blew through her eyes

except she didn’t have eyes

and, by extension, eyelashes

in fact,

she didn’t have a body at all

this was not unusual in the non-world

and1aand so here iand so here i am.a face in tthe crowd of beating hearts.

curiositylimngering , stroking at my can one fface compare to another/? Eyes of swarming green, devvouring it all. Here i am. Cocome find me.

LLovving this conference. Yay for the GLBT+ workshops!

Loving this downy door, drowing tomorrow in naked reefs

taken from breathless boondock

Water spills and flows from the page

Drowning and wont stop.

joy will return to the booth,


she is usually late to the party

lemon breath

yellow tooth

brush in the rough

hair in the nest

sing yourself free

breathe yourself home,


The greedy the people

who is as can do






Sunshine and rainy days

a counterterweight to tweets, two dimensional and without


WWe sat to listen

But we flew instead,

Transported by the words,

The notes of wisdom

And connection.

I want a girl with a mind like a diamond

Who’s fast

And thoughrough

And sharp as a tack


Morning doves in the white mulberry

Climb one another*s back. To build

A flimsy nest of sticks and fallen berries

Por que te fuiste de mi vida? Amor leja o… \my f friend ccries in comfort or concernaand smiles.       Smiles

soomewhere, an alligator, maybe?without kindness or concern

we.   We we fly. Fly together in the  sublime darkness

of grey skies. What consequences.  

Jeder stirbt fuer sich alleiZuruek bleuiben zurueck bleiben, bittte

I can hear your heart

We don,t talk about the ones who didn,t die

I can hear you

I can hear your heart. My heart is here, he notes hollowly. I know, I sa. Say, but I hear something else. I put my ear to the middle of his bare chest. I can hear beating, lub-dubbing. I wie waere du tief im herzen bist?

You wish to speak in  every language as fluently az as you think,

to say the moest honest thing without irony or pretense.

BBu eeven in yoour own speech, your own tongue you faail.

And there is comfort to that faiilure. Your life, your mind defies spech,

You re grander than any langugwe, depending on the ligh  hununder

Which you  look.

Languaage, like body, is not you. You.     White s ace.      Dark matterr rr.  R rrrufirst time sddddddd. FirrsFFFC.   Cool

immigrant essays series

shufty eye contaxt

currency of the anxious

don8t spend too much ar once

be miserly with your eye contact

glasses are for spendthrifts

gatez of obfuscation on the bridge on your face

you don*t hear what i8m saaying,

do you?

       i do



things that anger anna g:

when people try to say her name

Aaand when. People think her name...i saw tg ejhkthththe    

And if peopple think she*s the same as them

and ask how she is without wanting to know the below par breakfasts of her Life

Who is morr normal that a famous person

Wwe alll speak together

in an ivented city

mobile first persons where b borders shift

crafting mirrors between eras

helene cardona

anytime i see a line i just get in it.

Inffinitte liines, zero tthhoughts. Thoughtlessness isnot

A curse, raather, a respite,

A sunshower in my stormy life.

SShould we ask ourselves tthe harder questioms

Should we ask what the maid will do after she retrieves the hair

From. The edge of the tub

Ask ho many hairs we haev left untendedhere or there

We dare you

 Tthe hair iss so grimy.  Iit sticks and clumumps and ma

Makes everything it touches sinful with our human wet. The burden

Of it buiuilds on our head and torsoes untilthe only thing we can

Reasoonably do is shed it,make it some less fortunate servvant<s

Burden to carry. The best thing to do with

isforget about it, get on

 The day. The worst people never think about it at all.

The politics of the grotesque

my mother eating an apple among falling leaves

plastic texas in the ocean and whale stomachs

plastic texas in california

everyone wears thre same round glass

When  the vulva screams ititisimportant to listen to the beast of the bellystealing your paragraphs, i manglethem withh my

And so   From the start of the dawn, way late into the following

Afternoon, the sexy bog monster ate all of my carrot

Screaam on charlie brown, snoopy,s gone finishi;

Having arrived at the mire of morningwe knew departurewould rear its deceptive head, so weclosed our four eyes, sneaking glimpses*tween kisseseach one the smallest goodbye- goodbye.

II hheard a poem last night that made me want to write abou

Wrestling. At lest you gave me that


Iam no poet.

Yyou fell my from lipsfrom lips filled with the pacifiers of lifemarlboros eggrolls juicy fruit cabernetplease sate my insatiable hurtthe leftover bruised fruitof my traumatic weaningthe chapped skin of my moothers breasttrapped beetween my teethblood and milk our greatest opiates

Aaddictioion, addiction, an opiod pandemic stealing

Lives and burning souls.

Miother, I am sorry.

Sssu. Sky hhope ffor the future. Love callsththe insidd of us out


The hangover sets in againi.                                     I swore this woululd be the last.                       I wish I k new what I was doing here

WWwet, soddem fingersi am eatingg, bu. I am    T.     Ffvull. I amsouth for the winter, i am a soaking dish ina a grimy sinki am hateshput, just as strong as cleopatra, just as many breatsts,but with a beard.^ol. Ol.


C Chhimera cloth, full mouth of fur

Who sets the flame oof the skin at dawn?

Tthe earliest pilgrims sharaed a acathedral for the heart. They werethe tremple not made with hands. The eklasia of gad. The songs they

Suung were the hyyms that rung the rafters. Look at them now. Heds thrown b

Own bacck , alone but for the gulls that dip the prow. Against the too

Salt sea and the inhospitable sky their voices formed a screen ofpraise.

Love it wwas that drove them forth, love bathat brought them home aagaiana.aagain. Love hardened thrir hands against the oar and heated their sinews against the rain.the journeys they made were are against commonsense. Who leaves s hearth for the open sea,especially without a compasaacompass, especially in wintrer especially alone.


Porridge pooridge pooor ledge pooouur

It,s tietime for the q whale prom, itt<s ti.  

  Time for your r


Hello hello i am a bblurry pirate who ccomposes operas abou. Huhut ,mercy

Nothing lasting can ever be made with an echo.

And the tongue-bu

And the tongue-burrning joy of livingoroilloveyoubehaapppybehappyba

WWriting our livves paper magic. Namaste

I can*t tell if it*s blood or mud on these Georgia roads


Iig grew u upp in aa dirrt world butnow i live in a world of pla


Hellotthis ois sarah eli zabeth simmons! I have xxxxxx never

Used a typewriter before in my whole life and this is too exhilirating

For xxxx words! Sarah Elizabeth is my name AND I CAN TYPE IN CAPITALS


… i suppose that I should get off to let others use this,

But this has been wonderful. Now someone is taking my picture.

NOW is goodbye. May your xxxx words come easily and communicate

What is within your mind.

I*ve been here before

My typewriter is firmer

Many words of love and fear have been

PounDed into blended

Churned leaves

Why does it hurt so much to love?

(I wish u would eat my heart)

Oor juice the sunlight from her curls.  

You  aa aperil to a parablea marmoset u nder a marmoset skymade irreligious by the parrot greenpupils of your insicere eyeswhat whwerewithal the wooden moon?what last word speaks the sun?

Totell the truth i dont know whyy this hurkl klklkurts;ikeitdokokokok

Hurts lklike it does it doess aalso,you think you  will get to the point

That anyone who would know it would come to you but what you  fine

The would there thto thier aararm bloeeding too them too bleedin

Ros. Roseb uds only bloom

Certain times


     MMake the ti me to collecct  them

 OOr time will pass

And they will too


At tthe conference tthe kind of


Hungry.    Hungover.     W white guys

  1.  Would have sleppt withand.                   40 years ago
  2. For. About 20. Seconds

Aallll around this place. It all reminds me of him


   No snow on these blue flowers from upstate

Okay, I’m tryin to get the hang of the typewriter again

it got a hang on mehang on me hang on hang

aphrodite has blasphemed the straights

i am happier now than i have been in. while

tangerines and tea leaves. i miss her. she is home

when will i see you again

                                          follow discount legs on s a r a m

fortunate friend my fortune for you

is remember to avoid the beaverdam

       man it is unfair that beavers get

such a bad rap

Hello Typewriter: We MISS you…. Hard to type but willing to spend time with you!!!

And if only you only the breeze, if only

I you havr gotten this far, congratulations!

he is fear and teeth is eye

here is ear and there is ever hung

Quagmire quandries condemned to condensation

You’re my type, writer.

You’re my typewriter.

Yore—my typewriter.

I THINK therefore i may or may not be

my existence is questionable

i fade in and out of reality

dont catch me if i fall

i am not one to brag,

but i have seen you in the stars

and i am not impressed

You can connect

If you want to, emi

Here we are

Where are you?

When the world ends,

will you blink?

! There we go !Things are more like they are now than they have ever been before.

For a good time, call Terry. 804 572-0985

Johnny*s in the basement mixing up the medecine….

Have I told you lately that I HATE you?*Cause, darlin*, I*m telling you now.

No room for hae around

  Here, darlin, I<ll tell y ou now.Because weare lovers of words lovers of love.

Aand sshe llikeed him but she dididnt like it. Insttead she she felshe  fell in lovewith the art the took her breath away

Poem for Marta Powem with out sun in Florida

Poem for the lonely days of 10,000 poets

And 10,000 x 10 poeems poem for the typewriter

Whose touch I have fiinally mastered so that I will now type to

The bell!

An 88th key

Abcdeefghijklmnoppphhello. How arre yyou??  It thas been a long tiuime

How is thihtthisi i

89 doors unmoored unmoveda young girl moulds locks from old keys

Makes a surplus of entrancesshww wants the world openshe hasn*t yet learned to love lying

I thtthink this is aa great prg eat project. It is much harder to type on

This key boa ard than a compmpuer r. Thanks for invictinig u to type.

Good morning sunshine! The earth says helooooooooooo!

OCSA aaa

OCSA says hello!

We are m aki

Nobody knows that i am illiterate. I have never read a book in

My life. I am google-ing this right now.;(

Hello from. Oram gthis is hard to type on how did those ladies man

Whoops i meant manage anywyas hello world i am also illiterate

CCool, I am so glad to be at the American Waffle Program

Conference, thouh I am confued why therr are so many books

I love you.u.

Wwhy only. Put

Whyy oonly pu


Y onlk7777wwertwh

Why only put cherries in sshirley temple

Aznana wwhat dooo i write i feel so on the spot

Half of m y letters dont go througgh

Oh nothis such a cool progject a i dont think im pressing hrd enough

You  need to hazammer the buttons

The invisible sink was left behind when they took  zachary hhaislop zac hary

Michael and me will beone wil

Some day the world may give us a war and no one will come. - brooke king


One dday the world m ay fall if n ott fall

Will come togetherr now

We think it*s cute too

Everyone in florida wants to have it

The wway the rolling water ran

So smoothly, quiiet and swweet.

On e day the worl d will fall if not come together. -zachary haislo

I am taking this truck to nebraskaor the moon

I have lots of snacks


Thr girls wo.                    Uld caall it calm ing. Cute evven

I*d agrree, this one time.

Ssam was her sam was here andd. Shee. Saayss helllo

And here is watwhere the water stops falling

Where we all go crazy

Where our world tilts and falls

I am here always. Hello Jim.

The Dr-D-Drum in conundrum keeps banging in my head

May it bang bang through the streets of the world

And just like a little matchbook-we lit each other on fire

And then threw each other away

I am a girl in a dress at a typewritrd

Isnt it always what i wanted to be?

Shouldnt i have said 2@@woman@?

I dont know; i never know



The Sneeze

TThe unblessed sneeze

Where does it go?

Hight up above

Or down bellow?CS

Ffortune favors the bold

But the bold should be warned

For pushing too hard, too far

That can be bad too.

^hasfai.   Mi riend Ken May saw my grandparents<typewriter in a place

Of honor in my home and it was so sweet when he explained its p

Purpose to his daughter who was thenn a freshman at Berkely

He yearndHe y she had never used anything lower tech than a lapptop. The phy

Physicality of it overwhelmedd her, but also excited hershe spent the whole sweltering weekend in grandfather<s unventi

Unnventilated woodshed,slamming the keys withanggry force under t

The thin slat of light that painted the north wall from 3 to 4

Pm. She barely watched the words form under the ink stained pro

Prongs—she only thouuht about them, and how they seemed to ex

Expel her anger for professor mayhew and his opinions on the wo

Women,s movement ahgainst sexual harassment in academia<<in my day , adults were adults and what they did was there bus

Business, he crowed at least once per every two weeks.

In your day,no one thought to check if everything going on behi

Nd closed doors was ok with everyone involved, maygen thought b

Tterly, though she never dared say it out loud.

TTOOdasdays the day i begin to breathe

Ifeel safe in my bones.

I watch my best friends, Liz and Bennett, and I wonder what they

Wouulld be li,ke if they had never met me. It is a saAd thought on which

I do not like to dwell. I truly love them , and wonder if they , perhaps,,,,,

In some way, feel the same about me.


Suck on aa maaango bitch - tarfia faizullah

The arre so many elephants in this room — Tarfia FFaaizullah

There are so many elephats in this room. —Taarfia Faizullah