Jenni B. Baker is the founder and editor-in-chief of The Found Poetry Review. Her poetry appears or is forthcoming in DIAGRAM, Washington Square, Lunch Ticket, BOAAT, Quarterly West, and Whiskey Island. Her Oulipo-generated chapbook, Comings/Goings, was released by Dancing Girl Press in 2015. In her current project, Erasing Infinite, she creates poetry from David Foster Wallace’s Infinite Jest, one page at a time. She is currently collaborating with composer Patrick Greene on a classical song cycle based on the Erasing Infinite series, set to debut in Chicago in 2016.2
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David Armand was born and raised in Louisiana. He grew up in the small village of Folsom, where he lived on twenty-two acres of pine-wooded land with lots of dogs and a few horses. He has worked as a telephone …2
ROOM 220 will host Anya Groner and novelist Brendan Jones on Thursday, September 15, at 7 p.m. at Antenna Gallery (3718 St. Claude Avenue). Jones will also be leading a writing workshop at Antenna from 10 a.m. – 3 …2
I would have thrown newspapers in nothing but my boxers
at sparkfall. Instead, I go mourning
all day and flitting about the hollow space inside.
In the marketplace chickens hang in a butcher’s window.
Little is up in arms.
Sometimes, they speak of little ones. They do it with words and awkward silences, clasped hands, smiles and twitches, sidelong glances and mating calls: “Hey, babe. I’m winded, because you just took my breath away.” I stoop to pick up …2
The first time a Medieval castle was built it was done using people.
Or the backs of people.
Who were in love with each other enough.
So they made a city. Using their arms and hands.
To sculpt the torsos …
So mom brings a guy home tonight—fourth fucking guy in a month—and guess what? He has a tattoo that says I Love Mom. It’s on his chest. They both think it’s hilarious. He finds it so hilarious he farts …1
I tell my daughters, let’s make a dessert for bad girls—for the florid, the delinquent,
for the deeply hazardous—
A cake involving heavy cream. Let’s beat in eggs till batter skims
a private shape, scattered with shattered pistachio nuts.
The first time,
I get two new hearts.
One is exactly the same,
orbits the first
like a dog.
By the numbers I get
I get a terrible party
Anna was driving us to Wisconsin, and I was in the passenger seat, fussing with the white seam on my—on Anna’s—navy blue swing dress. I’d started borrowing her dresses and skirts after her eyes lit up at me the first …14
A one-star Amazon review of D.T. Max’s new biography of David Foster Wallace, Every Love Story is a Ghost Story, lampoons the book as “SHALLOW.” Another one-star review accuses the book of being full of pointless factoids. But it …3