The Immanent FieldMichael Martin Shea
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It’s like a game of Telephone played at the Olympic level but without the pollutive stench of blood doping. It’s like Trieste but for poor people. It’s like architecture without the burden of being “up to code.” It’s like apoplexy prescribed as restorative measure. It’s like getting roasted in front of a live studio audience by your oldest friends. It’s like relapsing into the soft and adoring hands of social media. It’s like an austere and imposing snapback. It’s like ten thousand spoons when you can’t stop thinking about killing yourself. It’s like a game of Telephone played until someone starts crying. It’s like a blizzard made from other people’s sad Facebook statuses. It’s like a television sensation that gets cancelled but never ends. It’s like a dream. It’s like a dream. It’s just like a dream.
AN EXCERPT FROM EP 95
“Rapid appeasement of a minor ill is central to the state’s concept of the protest ⋅ I found out I’d been cheated on a full year after it happened ⋅ What the state wants is an artist class that entertains, like wrestlers”
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
MICHAEL MARTIN SHEA is the author of the chapbook “Soon” (Garden-Door Press) and the translator of Liliana Ponce’s Diary, forthcoming from Ugly Duckling Presse in 2018. His poems and articles have appeared or are forthcoming in Conjunctions, Fence, Jacket2, jubilat, Montevidayo, Pleiades, RealPoetik, and elsewhere. He lives in Las Vegas, Nevada, where he serves as managing editor of the Best American Experimental Writing anthology series.