"The poet is of no party." Baudelaire
Our manifesto is an act of substantiation.
We reject all forms of futilitarianism, in whatever disguise.
We believe that comedy is the song of the village and tragedy the song of the goat.
We believe what is written in the books, but now we want to see for ourselves.
The single idea, beating on the same doors in vain.
The analogue and the invention.
The death cell.
The first permission.
Though we watch the stage for things to happen, though our minds wander.
By ourselves in the green field, playing our diversion.
Though the story begins with the loss of a home.
Out of the machine, we shift restlessly in our seats.

Issue: ELEVEN, WINTER 2022

13 | 12 | 11 | ARCHIVE: 1–10

{ Manifesto }

"Enter ghost ; ; ; ; ;All the beautiful rooms"

April 24, 2024 Jessica Baran

Enter ghost                All the beautiful rooms
are empty

All the accounts deactivated

Calendars vacated of all spectacle      all spectacular affairs

We no longer touch
each other’s faces

We dream of vengeful animals
escaping their electrified enclosures

Suspiciously low flying airplanes

Houseplants sickening and dying      from the burden
of our smothering love

"Where is the daughter the son"

April 24, 2024 Jessica Baran

Where is the daughter the son

The monogamous swans
tucked in for the night under their white wings

Have you ever seen a swan in flight

I have never seen it

The winter sun bleaches everything

Blanches the snow-dusted hills

There is no swoon no afterlight

Have you ever seen it

I remember when we were ravenous for the sun and the sun
was ravenous for us