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my twelve-part poem 'minyan' in its entirety, elegantly displayed as a garbled series of tweets:
in 2017, i was graduating from my BFA program. my alma mater reached out to do a spot on me. it was a nice, but fairly basic piece, kind of an ad spot.
this summer, i was contacted by someone in the same department, asking if they could update my piece.
stockton.edu/admissions/choo…
i recently learned that slugs have terrible eyesight and i can't stop thinking about setting up an eyeglass recycling center with the express purpose of fitting every living slug with functional (and fashionable!) eyewear.
language is fluid and beautiful and constantly evolving, and wow that is so cool and i admire that fully.
except in instances such as "chachkies."
that one hurts to hear.
i heard the language of the dawn in slumbered stones and mourned the coldness of our sorrow
i will carry it home to the sand to the wood to my skin
to where i saw the moons of jupiter and wept
for to all who lived and all who love they remain a minyan
.
(you can hear me recite these poems and download the little chapbook i made for them at jacobwolos.bandcamp.com)
