Author Archives: Mark Kerstetter

If There Were a Heaven, It Would Stink with Life

Blanchot wrote that Nietzsche was the first to teach us that, “if you begin to think, then you can hope for no rest.” [The Writing of the Disaster, p 123] And yet it’s a fact, lucidity cannot be maintained perpetually. … Continue reading

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Read, Pig!

Once I saw the title, Think, Pig! I had to have Jean-Michel Rabaté’s book, published last year by Fordham University Press.

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Pierced to a Cry

In the darkness we imagine a brilliant articulation but we don’t yet know who speaks. Will it be us? Agent or reactant, we pause at the crease. Or are we the fold itself, hidden from ourselves that which is exposed … Continue reading

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Acéphale

  Masson saw skulls spilled in Champagne, tried to box the damage in canvas. In a new year pomegranates are lucky, they say. If one is offered with bowed head take it—take four, like Persephone. Antioxidant or IED is not … Continue reading

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The Age in Agency

The phrase “time bomb” is as course and indelicate as a fire-breathing dragon and shall make no headway here tho its head or ass is already in the door. Hit it with Webster. Hit it with Roget. Hit it with … Continue reading

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The Day I Met Leroy Jenkins

I am gratified to Jonathan Penton of Unlikely Stories Mark V for welcoming three of my noisier more biting poems. Is It Too Soon? is most recent, written shortly after and in response to our infamous November 8th election. I … Continue reading

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Poetry and Communication

From a time in my late teens when I couldn’t yet write poetry I’ve salvaged this fragment: Fathers: perennial movement tumescent adolescence caught by webs of clotheslines on a ladder of muscle and bone into the womb. Mothers: perfumed shadows … Continue reading

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