What To Do When You Are Doing Nothing

Without often realizing it, David Shumate is one of my most beloved poet. That right mix of touching and humorous. I was excited to see La Petite Zine published not one, but two of his poems. Man, The Races of Man is exceptionally killer: smart, not too aggressive, reflective.

I like this poem by Karie Buss a lot, but I'm still deciding why. The turn at the end? The straight forward emotion of it? The form?

Mary Miller has these types of stories down, as evidenced by Little Brass House and Paula. Some of the sentences she writes are ridiculous cool, interesting, well crafted:

(The Opening Paragraph to Little Brass House)
Now that I’ve finished grading, finished everything here that there is to finish, I’m in bed, watching the occasional big-winged bird fly by, listening to the crackheads smash their words together. My roommate took the curtains. They were hers. Still, it was a shock to see them gone—so many trees, so much light. She left two days ago and already the crackheads know I’m here alone. I take out the trash, shove her old posters and plastic containers and wine bottles into the can, and they say, “Your roommate gone?” They say, “You up there all by yourself?” and I tell them I stay with my boyfriend at night.

Or my favorite of Little Brass House:
Soon I start thinking about a fat girl in my class who wore leggings with short shirts, how she friended me on Facebook and her status was “Punk will never diet” and there was a sexy picture of her with her hair covering one eye.

These poems by Vitor Oliveira Jorge are cool. The first one reminds me of some friends I have who just graduated from The College of Architecture and Planning. The second one begins will such a killer image, and the line about asking the landscape to dance is nice.

I'm never 100 percent sure what Jimmy Chen is doing in his HTML Giant posts, but they always get a ton of comments and props and I'm always like "coooool." Try this recent one out for size.