Article
By Jackson Davidow
Fifty years after it was published, Elsa’s Housebook remains an intimate photographic document of the literary avant-garde.
Category
Photography & Film
Showing 1-20 of 189 results
- PoemBy Elise PaschenLily Gladstone confides she wore my great
grandmother Eliza’s blankets in three scenes.
I don’t remember… - PoemBy Douglas KearneyWas Him, once fini, on the beams,
prior, He's hewer of thorntree.
Could stretch tilapia and ewer,
dole … - PoemBy Major JacksonThe screen's fabrications remain. A film
shot never fails, sailing through the century
like a black V … - PoemBy Jean ValentineHe was shoveling sand
at the edge of the water, his heavy black glasses
glittered with rain:
"Don't you… - PoemBy Langston HughesThe Roosevelt, Renaissance, Gem, Alhambra:
Harlem laughing in all the wrong places
at the crocodile … - PoemBy Louise ErdrichAugust and the drive-in picture is packed.
We lounge on the hood of the Pontiac
surrounded by the slow… - PoemBy Josh BellKung-Fu, a couch, and I might reach
emptiness tonight, stuck on that Midwest
hoo-doo, counting cemetery… - PoemBy Michael PalmerI know a silent movie star named Jane.
She speaks without moving her lips.
She once starred in a film … - PoemBy Robert HaydenAt Dunbar, Castle or Arcade
we rode with the exotic sheik
through deserts of erotic flowers;
held in the… - PoemBy Timothy DonnellyAnd though we had fed long and well at the table
the talk always turned to whether to go on
regardless… - PoemBy Rita Dovelate, in aqua and ermine, gardenias
scaling her left sleeve in a spasm of scent,
her gloves white, her… - ArticleBy Valerie Mejer Caso
- CollectionBy Adam O. DavisPoetry, like the movie theater, is built out of dark and light. The ink and the page. The room and the screen.
- PoemBy Mike DoughtyHe was jailed for cruelty to insects, and his agent wasn’t answering the phone, so he stayed awake in the cell all night, pictures jumping around his head of the cops and the blowdryer they took as evidence. He used...
- PoemBy John MurilloFor me, the movie starts with a black man
Leaping into an orbit of badges, tiny moons
Catching the sheen of his perfect black afro.
Arc kicks, karate chops, and thirty cops
On their backs. It starts with the swagger,
The cool lean into the... - PoemBy Paisley RekdalHow horrible it is, how horrible
that Cronenberg film where Goldblum’s trapped
with a fly inside his Material
Transformer: bits of the man emerging
gooey, many-eyed; bits of the fly
worrying that his agent’s screwed him—
I almost flinch to see the body later
that’s left its... - PoemBy David RoderickI wear a flower in my lapel.
I like the sweetness of its lie in my nose.
A carnation, the fool’s flower,
its heart a wilting empire.
In late-night editing sessions,
I imagine I’m planting flowers
in the sockets of eyes. Whatever helps
me reach our rigor...