Category Archives: Poetry

By Christopher Stoddard Inspired by Rilke’s “Autumn Day” Universe: We’re ready. The last season’s ended. Now replace the heat with hielo, and on the sidewalk let the roaches freeze. But first, give the grass in parks power over these final … Continue reading →

I believe in the periphery of my feelings.  I worship the demigods inside the meat of this blood orange and its peelings.  I am a carnivorous vegetarian, starving in a once emoted world that’s been degenerated by beasts like me.  … Continue reading →

Hi ANTICHRIS_ visitors, this is the second poem from a small chapbook of Christopher Stoddard’s old poems that he’s found and rescued.  Enjoy. By Christopher Stoddard My heart beats like an American haunting. Your love spooks me, my caged kin … Continue reading →

By Christopher Stoddard Before or after reading this, listen to You Wanted a Hit by LCD Soundsystem This is for the cool kids who are not that cool. This is for the cool kids who associate with the cooler kids … Continue reading →

Hi ANTICHRIS_ visitors, this is the first poem from a small chapbook of Christopher Stoddard’s old poems that he’s found and rescued.  Enjoy. By Christopher Stoddard It amuses me the way I let you into my house, left open my … Continue reading →

By Christopher Stoddard You box yourself But don’t know the sport. You box yourself With white lines, An open organ And multiple mongrel tendencies. Your 3AM amen’s don’t Help you much. Oh, the sacrifice of Standard You, that body bruised. … Continue reading →

By Christopher Stoddard I know this isn’t what It feels like, but I keep seeing you anyway. The anxiety in my stomach that steals my breath and appetite, it’s not It. Hours later, I hear from you. We meet. We … Continue reading →

By Christopher Stoddard I wrote it down on a piece of paper.  Every itch.  Every scratch.  Every part that leaves me feeling left out. The last kid picked on the dodge ball team, something trite like that.  Every dying young.  … Continue reading →

By Christopher Stoddard Xmas ‘02 My Eastern Bloods Drive cars with iced hoods. I sit West with iced eyes, Adding the times Christmas lied. My emotions been busy Hanging Ornaments of Ornery. I decorate my isolation With this seasonal sensation. … Continue reading →