Poetry by Emily Barton Altman
Landscape with Winter | Landscape with Fog
Landscape with Winter | Landscape with Fog
the Chamber of Commerce | the fire beneath
When Rush Hour Begins | When The Morning Flushes To Perfect Stillness | Force
MULTIPLE CHOICE: ENTROPY | NARRATIVE POEM
What I Miss About Texas
There’s only one print of the film in existence, the filmmaker went on to say, a single 35mm print.
“When can I see you?” I said. “I’m free tomorrow and Saturday night and Sunday day.” My schedule was vast and empty.
The AI is the opponent you can never see, said Glenn who was not Glenn, and I really understood what he meant about that.
Shame wants you to paint her toes with green glitter polish. She wants goose-down pillows, matching silk pajama sets you wish you could afford.
I am ready, on this autumn-infused street in which a store clerk belts a melancholy song over the radio, to abandon everything—