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Seth Landman (winner of Who Should I M-Soft Paint Survey

above with Emily Petit during playoffs

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They Kissed Their Houses

by Shaggy Chain

#6

Disappointment is added on a list. Desire discards all lists. Javier got his knuckle bit, but it didn't discourage him, it was his pass-code to the new world. Claire was self-conscious so went in the bathroom. The town they peopled made them better realize the city. They felt drawn to an even smaller town. Could this end, thought Maryanne. Maryanne knew if they moved to a smaller town, they would just get a crush on a smaller town, they would find the locals more local, the animals, there would be more. And even having a house in the woods, wouldn't one night they decide to sleep out in the yard, and feeling too safe, want to wander deep in some woods, where the world starts, where the day begins? Would this year end with them sleeping in dirt, on sticks, through rain? Joyce just wanted a cool job. She didn't want to have to tell her friends about anything uncool. Here, in this moment, a person has a tongue, and teeth, does restaurants, does taxes, does wish some and get some, but leans forward, scratching at anything that sticks out, patrolling his own skin for problems, leaning into the next moment, spreading disappointment and predictions, but Javier, his knuckle was cool.

the winning m-soft paint image from my poll

the ref couldn't help it, he caught it, he shot it, he scored

live lit tonite 2/20

a poem i like that Landman wrote

My Friends:

It had been years since I had written a poem. A stone's throw from my front porch, a momentous car pulled up along the sidewalk. I asked out loud, "What in the hell is going on here?" I felt the wind coming from across the graveyard. I could hear--let me try this like this--I can hear the traffic from the highway at night. It is a distance away. I can't tell you. No, you cannot hear it, are mistaken. A front porch since my car crash, I sit there every hour. I go out there and cycle back through choices. I asked, of course, of traffic, what sort of belly do you have? It settles. Is it settled? A sidewalk does what in a frost heave? Is this appropriate? To ask a baby? Right here, I peek out the window at the front porch. The house is dastardly and floats on a hill. What a hill. Photographs. There are no answers to front porch traffic. You can't hear the highway at night. The cars come, so I wish to be a car, out loud. Crash, floats the hill. House, say the bees. The graveyard is in hell, you know. Here is going on, like a distance the trees settle on before cars. When I see the redwoods, I settle on a front porch reaction. I can ask lots of the hours. In the belly of giving back, cycle back, sort of photographic. It's a memory of a memory. The shudder of shatter.

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My story "Doodle Face" is in the new Barrelhouse. If you want to buy it you can click this underlined word.

Today I had the pleasure of joining young publisher Seth Landman go collect his new books from the press. These are: Invisible Ear 3, and Beethoven of Smells (A.S. Parker's chapbook). I got to help number these babies and I was impressed! Find Landman at AWP and give him a hard time!