David Shapiro is an American poet, literary critic, and art historian. He has written some twenty volumes of poetry, literary, and art criticism. Shapiro wrote the first monograph on John Ashbery, the first book on Jim Dine’s paintings, the first book on Piet Mondrian’s flower studies, and the first book on Jasper Johns’ drawings. He also collaborated on the first anthology of the New York School.

Forgetting a Dream         dedication (to come)

Forget the dream
Forget the poetry received in a dream
Forget New York, forget language
Forget you love violent electric storms

Forget the slit open, opened
Forget a closed cloud, bread and lips
Forget David Shapiro
Forget yourself Buy and sell yourself

Forget the great globe itself
Forget the angels in Silesia
Forget provisions for the trip
Forget that face

Forget eight arms for power
Forget peace Forget restless form
Forget whether it was an actor or a butcher
or a traitor at night
Forget whether it was interpretation or
amelioration

Forget, forget!

Angelo Micah Olin published several books under the name Jeni Olin, including Ich Habe Angst Um Meinen Hedgefonds and The Pill Book (both 2008). His first book to be published under the name Angelo Micah Olin, The Hunger Notebook, is forthcoming from Tender Buttons Press in 2015.

All paint is war paint when you’re newly stretched.
Nude of grace, I want to be seen with dignity
Or not all. A plumeria lei is the only noose
The Ethers will allow, fractional ownership
Of grief only. I take the candor of the animals
As birthright, baby gear. It is 5 in the morning
Inside the heart. Outside, the *constantly new darks.*
Pulsing with winks, I’m almost awake. Getting it
Together on a tract of peat marsh swamp, a trophy
For atrophy at great speed. I will not award this
Momentum, nor tag this “over.” I have no energy
For down below. Close to throbbing, I can still swim
Like this in THE AMERICAN TUB. If you’re still mining
For hearts of gold, visit the expert, the exposed
Sleeve, with its apotheosis part, “sling.” No matter
How warped I see the world, it’s my world, cracked
& salty. Nude of grace, I paint it anyway.