BROWSE Columns
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Photo by Alexander Sinn.
Invariably in transit, we persist
to spray our personal pollen.
A chew of a candy kiss,
the chatter of observant matter.
The boxer’s fingers in a sweaty sponge,
gloved in the oven of his mission.
Moth-eaten thistles, pursed lips bewitched,
a thin whistle twitting free.
Lips splash of wishes tossed
like ripe squash in sauteed skillets.
The long sighs, shy in the pocket
of locked and guarded goods.
Pregnant with pretext,
desirous and black,
Crow perches on a brick.
There is a wealth of wonderful wordplay and richness of language in the inimitable Corber style. When Mitch teases and twists the everyday cliche, we abruptly switch gears to ponder the newly-minted poetic image, whetting our instinct to explore more surprises ahead. Mitch Corber has lived not only as a poet, performing artist and musician, but as a video documentarian of NYC and Lower East Side poets for over 30 years. Mitch’s eagle eye, his stubborn refusal to quit and his poetic ear have allowed him to lens a historic poetics videography for our times and beyond.
