Evening Will Come: A Monthly Journal of Poetics (Tribute to Tomaž Šalamun—Issue 50, February 2015)

Sampson Starkweather
The Poets leave Hell. And again behold the stars.

lush atmosphere

I’m making music

for you

to rest in

reverse dream

I get dizzy

check instagram

tumblr

gmail

Nothing

& Waiting For

are my gods

ellipsis (…)

that terrible

threesome

the logos

I bow

down to

my shape

is shipwreck

mainly faded

just stay

I’ll read you

some early

Tomaž Šalamun

from my apartment

in this shitty city

and maybe

baby

we can make out

the stars