According to Rigoberto González and the LA Times: Angel Park is among the ESSENTIAL new books by Latinx poets! So TAKE THAT, LILY WHITE CANON! Many people seem to think that this country is one of binaries: Black|White Male|Female Us|Them I hate that. So should you.Lists like Rigoberto’s demonstrate that there is grey, and brown and red, and yellow, […]
Read more "Essential."What would happen if, as we walked along the shore rocks, I just fell in? What if by fell I mean jumped? Would you follow me down the rabbit hole or ask for help? And when you asked for help (which I am sure you would) would you stand there watching me become bubbles until someone walked by […]
Read more "falling out of"FEB 16, 2014 roberto f. santiago: the night the only street lamp on my block fell The sidewalk was littered with long nights and shorter days. My path, the one I took everyday to get to work, was more winding, less paved. And at the end of the street, you stood. As your lips parted, […]
Read more "the night the only street lamp on my block fell"Feb 14, 2014 roberto f. santiago: he has mistress eyes From the the distance of a fourth wall he flutter-paints eyes that masterpiece, forcing you to avert your own, fully aware your mistress’ eyes are something like the sun. His mouth, with gold-lace interwoven formed into a whimper, a sum of hyperbole and he is […]
Read more "he has mistress eyes"Feb 14, 2014 roberto f. santiago: merboy His mouth is the plié of a sitar. It cinderblocks: smoke, and cinders. Melting under the spell of votives sweet-icing, thick like vanilla: split up the middle of MacArthur after midnight. We bathe under the gaze of a not quite full moon. Merlot-lipped Merboy, shadow-sheer smile, black like bible-ink, […]
Read more "merboy"Feb 13, 2014 roberto santiago and dana jaye: the wasted land (pulse) “Poem” is the first word at the tip of her finger, a pile of copper found in pennies and wires in a squat Her stare was vacant-neon above an empty lot the window her dressing, nostalgia in knots. Antique-body, plaid-voices brogue, timber, and […]
Read more "the wasted land (pulse)"selfies in ink is an online journal of text selfiies. self-portraiture in writing. the “selfie” is a mode by which the author becomes the subject of their “own” work. selfies in ink is an online space where those works are performed, framed and published, a place for self-centered verse and micro nonfiction lyric essay. selfie poems and […]
Read more "selfies in ink"Jan 10, 2014 roberto santiago: the very last day I miss afternoons spent staring up from a picnic into petals & plumes that puffed across the lapis above us until shards of glass forced us to squint and giggle, fighting off the advances of pigeons and seagulls on the sand. I never […]
Read more "the very last day"Jan 10, 2014 roberto santiago: acquiesce I am so tired of being strong It’s always expected. Granted taken for long walks into winter frost. Snow-tire black boot crunched evergreen needle in slush, and rock-salt is not edible. I want to be a burden. Those saying otherwise are liars with oafish faces so fuck `em! Bearable […]
Read more "acquiesce"Nov 19, 2013 roberto santiago: it’s not me. it’s you. I’ve been looking for heaven in all the wrong places. Cavorting with alchemists and bartenders. Small-talking, pouring lilac wine into an astrolabe. I stand far enough from the truth but close enough to start a war, a cold one. I don’t want to be anything […]
Read more "selfies in ink: its not me. it’s you."
Roberto F. Santiago 