Noise
Charlie Peck
I once attended a stand-up show in Amsterdam,
             and not speaking a word of Dutch I just laughed
     along with the crowd, letting myself get caught
up with the noise. It's the logic of applause
             and food fights. I can't think about the bubonic
     plague without getting anxious. When I watch

Planet Earth, I root for both prey and predator.
             The border between humor and disgust blurs
     neatly so it's often hard to say. I was driving
home from the grocery store last week
             and saw that my neighbor had painted and hung
     a new sign on his shed: THEEVES WILL BE SHOT

and Kate asked, Who's Theeves? In high school
             a boy did a Gallagher impression after prom,
     smashing watermelons on stage with a hammer,
his fake mustache falling off mid-swing,
             and then two weeks later his parents received a bill
     for $30,000 to replace the pulp-smattered curtain.

Or that time in second grade after we had
             just moved when a quiet boy in my class asked
     for a ride home. My mother, new to the city,
got lost, and cross-stitched neighborhoods
             in the fading light because the boy didn't know
     which was his, and he started crying, and my mother

started to cry too, and we drove until the boy saw
             a familiar park, and eventually we found it,
     his house, and his mother was on the lawn
with two officers, and she's crying, too,
             and then the drive home after, my mother
     whispering, Shit, Shit, Shit, and wiping her eyes.
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My mother dislikes this poem because it paints her as a bad parent and because the scene at the end of the poem never happened. This poem was first published in Quarterly West and was selected by Cate Marvin for inclusion in Best New Poets 2019.
 
Azad Ashim Sharma headshot
Narco-Poetics with Arthur Kayzakian & Azad Ashim Sharma

"The linear narrative doesn’t apply to my life, and it took me a while to accept that. Relapse occupies this special place in the book. It begins there, really, with double movements, the backtracking of a period of progress in sobriety and then in the strange forgetfulness addicts suffer from, making the same choices expecting different results, etcetera. That double movement is what, for me, characterizes the voice I was exhuming and exorcising from my real-life experiences into a portrait of the fraught addict in recovery."

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What Sparks Poetry:
Ian U Lockaby on Edward Salem's "Fullness"


"In Edward Salem’s poem “Fullness,” thought is derailed, not from the first instant but nearly, and in each subsequent instant the poem expands and contracts simultaneously in a dissent against time and space, as it leads us to a divine, non-existent anal inner mountain, where there is nothing (and everything) to be seen (at once). Operating intertextually with a Godhead in its poetics of negation, the poem manages, paradoxically, to build possibility through its persistent negations. Each time a line of argument becomes discernable, it’s quickly and forcefully wrought back around its own tail, creating coils of energy in refusal."
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