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
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
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
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
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
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
They dissolve in water make milk
Even almonds use animal labour
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
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
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/?
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
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 mind.how 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
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
I want a girl with a mind like a diamond
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,
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
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
DAN K MEMES ARE LIFE
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
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
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
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.
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
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 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
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
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