Posts Tagged ‘ otoliths ’

Sabine Miller at otoliths

Sabine Miller


for D. Grey

A man spent one day and night hosing down giraffes and aoudads at the safari park; the preservation of wildness is something I cultivate; your absence is a cloud I take in as antidote; I prefer vapor to smoke because of the fires; I have yet to commit to a form or a position apart from my orbit of you and your obscuration-by-cloud — I disappear

and reappear endlessly for your salvation; a man spent one night and day of the fires with the zebras and antelopes, extinguishing, extinguishing: lost

his house to save his souls.


Source: otoliths

Sabine Miller & Carole Kim :: otoliths issue 46 of the southern winter 2017

Sabine Miller & Carole Kim

Of Music Stands and Mushroom Breaths

I imagine Arvo Part gestating in a church bell and raised by a village of solemn angels. John Luther Adams in a mushroom patch. Annie Lennox at the airport. Nina Simone, the slow current of a cypress grove. Beethoven in the foreshadow of the bomb.

My neighbor’s mother grew up in Northern Germany during the war. When she was seven, her school was hit during an air raid. The teacher took most of the kids down to the basement shelter. My neighbor’s mother ran the other way, toward where her mother worked, toward where her mother was running toward her, a small grey figure amidst the leveled landmarks.

There’s that grainy video of a group of men in Syria digging out a tiny, buried child: They’re shouting directives and Allahs, swiftly clearing around first the head then the arms…It takes about six minutes, and the child touches his eye and whimpers and is whisked away. The men cheer, a birth from and to the brotherhood of dust.

I think James Brown was the magic bean planted in magic soil. Snarky Puppy came from democracy; Miriam Makeba, magma; John Lennon, our collective dream. The girl and her mother lived long, rarely apart after that day. Ghandi said something about becoming humbler than the dust. I want to be carved by a river. Ink lines fuse and spore.

Source: otoliths

Johannes S. H. Bjerg | otoliths


Three Poems by Anne Gorrick | otoliths #34 August 2014

Flora Valley 1a

Flora Valley by Mark Young

Anne Gorrick: Three Poems | Otoliths #34 August 2014

again by Donna Fleischer / Otoliths issue 30, southern winter 2013

Donna Fleischer

after reading Jared Stanley

wild clover wind in
from america to 2013
Lüneburg, Deutschland rose
tree breeze, here,

the rain

drops, shudders leaves
surface tension over
each corona to
white-grey clouds
that enter barely there,
a chosen ground      seeps


the little goose flowers gänseblümchen
close, they open,

share eyelids’
crowded lights
push     out
parsed green shoots


View of Empyrean by Alexander Jorgensen / Otoliths, issue thirty southern winter, 2013

Alexander Jorgensen View of Empyrean 2013

otoliths: Alexander Jorgensen.

Donna Fleischer, Two Poems / Otoliths, issue 30, August 2013

Yellow Ticket in Red

Yellow Ticket in Red
Jack Galmitz

Otoliths, issue 30, August 2013 / Donna Fleischer

Zeitgeist Spam: In the House of the Hangman 1398

422006_3308566443616_978961831_nZeitgeist Spam: In the House of the Hangman 1398.

Tom Beckett An Interview with John Bloomberg-Rissman / Otoliths

Heritage Like Money Then: Exaptation at the Margins, Risk to Reward Where the Word Meets Itself, by Arpine Konyalian Grenier / otoliths, issue sixteen


otoliths issue sixteen

Yellow as gorse by Lakey Comess : : Otoliths

Yellow as gorse

Impossible to breath. Here is a shovel.
Here is another outline in ash.

Dangerous people pray for conversion of a minority.
Am I failing you?

Which is true?

Sunflowers combined orange
with African daisies; marigolds;
feathery fronds of fern.

Seven rooks and eight civilized seagulls,
pinstriped tail feathers, natty.

Once upon a time I loved you
delays killed response. Courage failed.

Lakey Comess