2min chapter

The New Yorker: Poetry cover image

Terrance Hayes reads Matthew Dickman

The New Yorker: Poetry

CHAPTER

I Am So Fucking Vained. I Cannot Believe Anyone Is Threatened by Me

i love the conjugation, let's call it, of jacket of jones at the end and someone jonesing for grace. i wonder how uno has played just part of the writing process, not just for you, but writing rit large. I think i was wanting to do something with bolt and bolt. And so there are opportunities to like, put certain kinds of impressions that maybe everybody has walking around or being at a party down inside the larger context where this poem takes place.

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