May 2015
Luis Neer
luisneer@gmail.com
luisneer@gmail.com
I am a young poet whose work appears or is forthcoming in Right Hand Pointing, The Write Room, and The Rain, Party & Disaster Society. My poems usually deal with existential crises; other kinds of crises; or my beagle, whom I adore. I have a little scar on my left cheek that I received when I was six years old by jumping on the couch, falling off and hitting the coffee table. My favorite poet is Tara Brooke Teets, whose influence first led me to try to write poetry. If you like my poems I hope you'll write to me (and tell me I'm the next Rimbaud/Dylan Thomas).
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Change
It is not until the front door slams and the walls quiver that he realizes the house is nothing more than a permutation of various materials placed vertically and horizontally. A Small Truth Sometimes walking outside, looking up at the clouds, and imagining there’s a sun up there somewhere is all you can do and all you need to do to remind yourself how to remain. Blink Your Eyes Luis Neer It has always been my own brain. It was my own brain that made the hallways infinite, It was my own brain that made the skull like fog, It was my own brain that told me what the devil was. The fangs of the void are snapping at me. For sixteen years I’ve fought them off. As I mow the lawn, do the dishes or take a shower I am afraid I’ll be swallowed. I am afraid I am afraid I am afraid. The heart stops as often as it starts. Blink your eyes, Luis Neer: your feet have bumped against solid soil. The walls are solid, the record player is solid, the pages are solid, the typewriter wails, the ocean is howling-- the soul of the universe fills up the entire universe. |
©2015 Luis Neer