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Jason Barber

This tag is associated with 2 posts

“the watchers,” by Jason Barber

surveillance is heavy. you can never make it. where do they come from, plucking shoots of hopes, prying into the scales? nobody knows. they are the space-crawlers. they are the attic-thumpers. they live in furniture. they eat dust and pain. they resemble dead spiders. they could be invulnerable. contortionists changing the shape of ours-to-come, they [...]

“before i die,” by Jason Barber

shoplift saffron. include the word “carthaginian” in a title. be naked for days on end. understand and consume cheese. chop at bales of hay with a machete. extrude mud. form bricks. wear yellow and baby blue, together. lightly touch a woman’s lower back dimples with the gooey side of a warm aloe vera leaf. witness [...]

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