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ConnectHook Jul 2023
Gertrude Stein, you unreadable *****;
Lie back in your sty and I’ll scratch your itch.
I’ll water your trough so you can swill
Vapid verbiage till you’ve had your fill.
Your abstract expressions, while short of profound,
Could almost drive me to Ezra Pound…
Roll over in hell. You’re a rambling twit.
I’m Alice B. Toklas-ed, and tired of it.
Roll over, I say. Let them roast you some more;
Demons agree—you’re a well-lettered BORE.
They destroyed the common use of language.
Normal ways of using words bored them.
They wished to use words in a new, sensational fashion.
They twisted grammar, syntax.
                                         (Michael Gold: The New Masses)
https://writing.upenn.edu/~afilreis/88/stein-per-gold.html
  Jun 2023 ConnectHook
Alex Gifford
It's that moment
when the pieces
of the puzzle
all combine.

And you see a
glorious picture
that you doubted
that you'd find.

And then after
when the pieces
are inspected
each with care.

You see purpose
and see meaning
each too valuable
to spare.
This came to me all at once. It's an attempt to describe the feeling of your mind being blown when everything lines up and finally makes sense.
  Jun 2023 ConnectHook
Rob Rutledge
You can rest now,
Sooner than you think.
For your legs are tired
Mind is mired
By past events.

It has not all gone your way
Nor has it gone too far astray

You may walk that corridor
Past haunted portraits
Hung skewed upon the wall.
Each one faded,
Canvas scratched
By the history of memories attached.

It took years to build these walls
From the remnant of a childhoods fall
The first and last line of defence
To halt invasions and consequence.

You can rest now,
Sooner than you thought
You fought the battle,
You lost the war.
  Jun 2023 ConnectHook
Luke
I went out to find
Some value in me,
So I sold what I had
For little a fee.

My eyes for a penny
I sold to some fools,
They're blind and useless,
Mistook for jewels.

My lips for a nickel
To the sweetest sin,
So they'll know the love
That has never been.

My ears for a dime
I sold to a lover.
To hear sweet nothings,
And silence uncover.

My hands for a quarter
I sold to a ghost,
So that she might feel
What I've wanted the most.

Finally my bones for a dollar
I sold to the earth,
But as for my soul-
There was found no worth.
  May 2023 ConnectHook
Aimée
What happened?

What was lost between
Point A and Point B
That made you believe
Love was bought with currency?

What led to this misconception
That you pay for love with perfection?
You who live with this deception
Listen close, give me all your attention
I've seen every flaw you care to mention.

Everything from unthinkable to unpleasant
And it will never change the way
I love you, future, past, or present.
ConnectHook May 2023
Oh oh my identity
You must recognize me
Fashist is bad
We am good
We is genderqweer
We am POC
Whiten mens is dangerous
Bee more GenderRaceIdentity konshus

This are POETRY.
Feel me.
Modernist is a visual artist, poet, and contemporary identity to foist upon others, then complain about when they do not respond correctly. It earned its MFA in poetry from the traditional territory of the Ts’umpa peoples (now Rubber Band of First-nation Indigenous Indigents, Choctaw White Folks of Greater Oklahoma, and United Kazoo Band of Minnehahaha) and Tsoy Tzaw’z peoples (Mushu, Mixed Happy Family Kung-pao). It writes semi-coherent verse about genderfluid alienation, belonging, and inability to write poetry.

Drivel is a queer poetess, spelunker, living caricature, and weekend gynecologist with a private practice in identity-mongering. She lives with her aging but sassy Purple Republican “Mitch”, a friendly 80-pound lapdog. Recent work can be found in Better Not Review, Austin Journal of Berkeley at Cambridge, Cute Made-up Online Journal Name, and in the shredder behind the water cooler in that weird room off the English Lit. department.

Modernist and Drivel team up for an excitingly dull LIVE POETRY event in which readers read from their own work for fifteen seconds and then answer questions for an additional ten hours after everyone sighs.

Modernist/Drivel Dream-team is interested in hearing from ALL writers except those who are not part of disenfranchised communities such as people of color, immigrant populations, native and indigenous people, LGBTQ+, d/Deaf and Disabled, strident psychopaths, non-tertiary people, members of non-dominant religious groups, women, Dreamers, formerly incarcerated women dreamers, white people who seem kinda too white, and more.
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