asemic response-translation #2

Response-translation by Jessica Purdy

Orchestrate Zoloft hearse and hood
bowers on eves of war
from Eros jade wife ever voice
chomp mere brothers roquefort
Brylcreem oceans Antwerp
jazz or jag dare
corrupt piano year coco tempera
grass fed ages aged
Day up on early day
Cook dog jar loop
great umbrella of herself
8 good soccer food
maneuver ill gotten billy goats gruff
Joe concept of
glee egress ages ago
good holiday joy ghost
cool sling or sting steerage
acorn porcupine Poseidon
heart in French leaves solar cellar
 

asemic response-translation #1

Response-translation by Jessica Purdy

I like a face a nose and eye
down to a cheek a dimple of knee
a tree hollow branch female figs
Yes, you’ll say, fit for stopping of
jags its first history gin fizzy war
illustrate ill will wizard
dealer of seven north stars high sloppy 7th
baby in blanket gripped in coyness
exist Viking ninny children
virulent in my ways
illness is seven times seven is quotation marks
large nose attack three feet walking up steps dig
slice excuse recuse question mark three times
sills exist millenium existentialism
grapes grip in 42, 77, 27 years
parenthetical 2 everything

windofrms

With the awesome Satu Kaikkonen, a collaborative experimental comic:

 

The Frame Fishing

Collaboration with Satu Kaikkonen

Thanks, Satu. You're awesome.

Wish You Were Where?: The Postcard Project, sponsored by the Portsmouth Poet Laureate Program, encourages poets of all ages and abilities to send one of their poems (along with a stamp and return address) to an artist of their choice (as many as they’d like as long as each written piece is different) who will respond to the work by providing an illustration as the front of the postcard.

Poem by Jessica Purdy:

What I Want Today
    (for Andrew)

I want to be the word no one but the maker has read--
what is written on the electrical box, the screw head,
the metal under the sidewalk.
I want a greenish-copper patina on my cracking skin.

I want to be the apple still clinging to the tree
no one has picked me yet
filled as I am with bitterness, sweet promise,
and so securely fastened.

I want to be the day that hides the sun
You would know it's me if I were the day.



...and my response:

photos of "Founded on the Floor" by Pierre-Yves Freund