jen hofer

trans positions

Excavations of subsoil and surface

A letter from Hugo García Manríquez

This commentary is a collaboration.

Rogovin photo 

Milton Rogovin, Appalachia, 1962-1987

“The terrible light of life or the light of death” or Gratitude

Brief thoughts inspired by Gonzalo Rojas and Hazel Dickens

Carbón

Veo un río veloz brillar como un cuchillo, partir
mi Lebú en dos mitades de fragancia, lo escucho,
lo huelo, lo acaricio, lo recorro en un beso de niño como entonces,
cuando el viento y la lluvia me mecían, lo siento
como una arteria más entre mis sienes y mi almohada.

(Gonzalo Rojas, excerpt from the poem "Carbón")

Not a luxury

Desaparecidos in Oaxaca, in Cuernavaca, and beyond

"there are no words that adequately describe anything; they signify the already multiple layered stains of history's concrete (cement)/stone {steel}...who said we need to be recognized or seen for what we are? we already know we are held in a position at the end of a barrel, knife, the courts, and/or state sponsored violence...what I am talking about is the flux of absence,  not having the words and using the absence to speak of speaking without a language..." (kari edwards, iduna)

El mundo ya no es digno de la palabra
Nos la ahogaron adentro
Como te (asfixiaron),
Como te
desgarraron a ti los pulmones
Y el dolor no se me aparta
sólo queda un mundo
Por el silencio de los justos
Sólo por tu silencio y por mi silencio, Juanelo.

El mundo ya no es digno de la palabra, es mi último poema, no puedo escribir más poesía...la poesía ya no existe en mi.

Todos somos Erroristas

¡Viva el error!

“The point was to develop an art as poetically unpredictable as a dream, and then hurl it like a football into an unbelievable reality.” (Brian Holmes on Etcétera, later to transpose into the Errorist International)

Dear Readers:

This is an invitation to correspond.

I have a complicated and too often angsty relationship with the territories known as “the internet”—not to mention a complicated and too often angsty relationship with the territories known as “writing.” I avidly (if not-so-speedily) write letters and postcards to send through the actual physical through-snow-and-rain post (hooray for mail carriers and their snazzy racing-stripe pants!),