Poetry
To Micah Ballard in San Francisco
I give away all that I am
frame moments that remain
rolled straight from brown eyes
I know charms turn the crowd to action
another silent chill says
alone is a way-station to form
how underrated we are
as a skull makes the oasis of a smile
cry out obsessive familiars
true love formulates hours of light
behold a blank regality
watching the day unfold
I am more myself today
when the body falls away
we are eaten by the fugue state
anything goes by saying yes
chronic dreams revisit the past
proper pleasures seed the head
if your love be not free
the depths look like shallows
there's a demand for the genius
of broken overtones
we must march to the beat
the one about self-exception
our ferocious dissidence and blazing
topicality, spectral cathedrals
using us for incense
RECOMMENDED ARTICLES

The Eyes of Another: “Tokyo Stories” at the Japan Society
By Jaime GrijalbaNOV 2019 | Film
Inked in 1951, the Treaty of San Francisco specified the compensations and conditions Japan had to comply with following its defeat in World War II, essentially marking the nations first steps toward regaining sovereignty, but it also affected the cultural landscape of the country.

At Home and in the Crowd
By Gillian JakabDEC 19-JAN 20 | Dance
Audience members wait in the entrance of the townhouse (now run as cultural space by the nonprofit 1014) before filing in to a back room. Hassabis FIGURES (2019) unfolds. 51, 52, a projected voice counts as four dancers move subtly between twisted sculptural poses. The harsh fluorescent light overhead cancels what warm tones would have been offered by the ornate, wood molding.

The Master and Form: Ballet is Not Bondage
By Maya WeissSEPT 2019 | Dance
In his description of The Master and Form (2018), Brendan Fernandes claims to queer the illusionistic discipline of ballet by focusing on effort, which would be radical if it werent a few years late.
A Study of Form and Individuality
By Jen C. GeorgeNOV 2019 | Dance
Its opening night of William Forsythe: A Quiet Evening of Dance at the Shed, and the audience files into the spacious black box theater, nearly drowning out a gentle soundtrack of bird chirps with pre-show conversations. Per the program, we will be treated to work compiled from different time stamps along William Forsythes career: newly commissioned pieces (Epilogue and Seventeen/Twenty-One) stand alongside existing repertory (Dialogue (DUO2015) and Catalogue) re-worked over the past 20 years.