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Baffler Archives: Poems

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Take a Picture It’ll Last Longer
The old world is dying and the new world is actually also concurrently dying; it’s not a good time. I heard they were able to laser off your tattoo of a ten-point spread; was there any discussion of keeping it and lasering you off instead? I’m just checking. I’m just ...

Loose Exegesis
  And how the pros sparkled! I thought I’d play this game best when playing my betters. Up close to the net, pivotless, I felt myself most alive when being slaughtered. Everyone saw the shame, how swiftly it came to its descendant. Dark heirs then cookies in a star tin. I ...

Dolphins
Princes, unready to rule France or anywhere else.   No, they are glossy, all-too-human marine mammals, unable to communicate with their captors, till the intrepid children set them free at the climax of the film.   Some wish they were whales, able to find their ...

From The Streamers
Let me be clear: As a matter of principle, we offer Bundle deals and console cross-play As if words had ever been so beautiful Lapping at the transpersonal dream The procedurally generated magnolias Encourage pollination by means of Your mind’s interpretive function A rich ...

Denzel
my mind is a barking dog named Denzel by a woman that has never cooked in her life but always has something to say about the stew to tomato paste ratio it’s always too much paste never enough stew, but alas, she always finishes the too much tomato paste stew only leaves a ...

Go Jump in a Snake Pit
March 31, 2025
You dirty sick pervert. Don’t you dare Eat my sherbet. Could you be less observant? I’d rather drink detergent. End all my estrangements! Make it rain antidepressants. You watch me like a television set. You tourniquet, hold on far too hard. Your bed is wet. Your logic is ...

Once I Was a Great Bullfighter
I love every square inch the monuments aren’t. I walk over them, same the as-of-yet unmarked days on the calendar that will remind us to pour one out and think of our sweet dead friend. His guffaw a black carrot of denial burned in the toasters of our memory. It’s a question ...

Memories of Charles Street
January 06, 2025
My father loved to leave me in a movie theater by myself beginning when I was six   seated alone by the aisle   He paid the usher a dime to make sure no one kidnapped or molested me   Michael Ansara, Jeff Chandler, and Ruth Roman were my cartoon heroes living and ...

Misfire
My one good eye continues to have the last laugh; it has no other company; once considered a perceived threat: it has since been removed off the X but from time to time still levels with the clumsy cataracts of the widowed key-maker: my one good eye follows the crow’s feet ...

Fig.
January 06, 2025
if joy is a politics of citation, then my mother doesn’t break down into anything   if joy is a politics of citation, then in my palms, wombs. then my mother’s tongue slurping slurping bone canal lig ament lig a ment lament me. i mean head tilted back slurping slurping ...

Threnody for the Letter M
The maker is blessed, though babble be the measure of the necessary wood, that matter, the mind’s muttering   sounds, μὺ μῦ, a hum, a moan, a moon, the myth a mouth is, making murmur into the intricate dust of the moth’s   fragile wing, muons & other ...