New Work: Julien Poirier


Every sentence is a death sentence
Broadcasts the seed of its own incipient insanity
Or dementia
The subject of a sentence is trapped there forever
That’s why, to be good, you should write              in incomplete sentences
You’ve got to let the sentence be a low-rent superhero
The whole key is the hotel key
There’s a city ripe for saving, and every street corner is a coupon
Heat wave             Half moon             Two fingers in a white collar
Plot it out on a diner napkin. Leave the lips off a mannequin
             Shooting for that elusive margin

JP and SebJulien Poirier lives in his hometown of Berkeley with his wife and two daughters. He has taught poetry in the New York City and San Francisco public schools and at San Quentin State Prison, and was a founding member of the Ugly Duckling Presse Collective, where he published Living! Go and Dream, a novel in the form of a newspaper, and El Golpe Chileño, a book of poems, comics and memories. His California epic, Way Too West, is due out on Bootstrap Press.