Tip of the Quill: A Journal

Category Archives: Writing

30|09:15 The Next Big Little Thing

Gender is done, racism is done, Sex and bodily fluids and carnage and the inside out is done, What is next in art? What is left? Let us turn inwards, perhaps, What would it be like if urban sculptors and animators and designers Moved on to the next bit of the cycle, Checked the grotesque […]

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30|09:14 Puppetry

Just down the street from the Staatsbibliothek A group of street performers in black jumpsuits and white facemasks Are using a full-body puppet made of yellow and orange styrofoam To deliver a form of exquisite harassment upon a poor tourist Just trying to determine what exactly it is That sets a Starbucks in Berlin apart […]

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30|09:13 Henry

Suspenders, stripes, beard, Convergence or spreadable, Miss you when you’re gone.

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30|09:12 Yatta

This wasn’t quite what they had in mind. Towering overhead, brushing skyscrapers aside like nuisances, Shrieks a hundred-odd storeys of doom, destruction and chaos, Shooting sparks the size of buses from its gaping plastic maw, Eyes flashing with bulbs like tiny suns, The clockwork gears inside its mammoth chest Grinding and screeching so deafeningly loud […]

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30|09:11 Coffee to the People

COFFEE TO THE PEOPLE, reads the big green letters Mounted to the beige backdrop above the storefront door, Its logo a fist gripping a steaming cup, A caffeinated, subjugated form of rebellion, And I suppose it’s a coincidence that they’re Starbucks colors, That these Haight-Ashbury baristas were here before the Seattle invasion, I suppose that […]

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30|09:10 Modernity

In the lobby of the hotel beside the convention center You stand and seethe, smoke curling from your ears, White-knuckle grip on the credit card in hand Which has just been so politely declined. There are thoughts you think at these moments, Crazy trainwrecks of credit card fraud, of hacked systems, Of banks that had […]

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30|09:09 Justified

The trouble with poetry is what you think of it, Not a manly art, not a practical art, Not a good use of a grown man’s time, Especially in times of overcommission, Debts of money and time and promises Stacking up against you, Barking while you sleep, Squatting outside the bathroom door Demanding justification for […]

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30|09:08 The Hotel Ghost

The hotel ghost wanders from floor to floor, Rustling starched sheets, rattling loose windowpanes, Scaring the bejeebus out of an occasional tourist, But she gets no joy from this. A man who saw her claims she’s a lost woman, A murdered prostitute or a forbidden abortion gone wrong; Another declares with absolute certainty She’s the […]

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30|09:07 1A

Forty miles an hour up old route 1A, Wending rolling weaving its asphalt path from Boston to Portland, Salem Ipswich Rowley Newbury Freeport Camden Charting our progress less by the miles rolling up the odometer Than by the years proudly proclaimed on tiny little plaques – 1739, 1692, 1891, 1775, 1835, 1831, Mounted to the […]

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30|09:06 Little Worlds

I dream of barns, Great vast structures a century or so old, Weathered boards painted a noble red or deep blue, Trimmed in white edging and rough stones, Lit from within by the warm, flickering glow Of tableside lamps with stained-glass shades, Coaxing me to linger a while on cracked leather couches, Curled up with […]

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