States of Play: The Games Issue
January 12, 2022
The hope of non-sleepers is sleep, sleep is the food of all living presence, and time is the food of sleep. Time is a physiological condition, in addition to being a pit of holes. Sleep and wake are genres. Despite all appearances to the contrary, and notwithstanding dreams, sleep is a season. If you jump ahead, skip episodes of sleep, fragment the night, you lose the poetry of daytime. Daytime becomes a plot-driven slog; all it thinks about is sleep.
January 5, 2022
The trees conspiring to create eternity again.
Our bodies with every tendon, sheath, and auricle
intending to grow old again. Breath finding wings,
lungs, skin. Hearts becoming rooms, again.
December 15, 2021
A little mouth with little teeth. Nuns!
Not one. None!
Human reproduction on a copy machine.
rhomboids; the social life of the page
—in several hands, all
of the seventeenth century. The hair at the back
of my head; the drum in your chest.
An evening with Anelise Chen, Shelley Jackson, Arthur Sze, Tracie Morris, and Charles Bernstein
Friday, January 21, 2022
8:00 pm – 9:00 pm EST/GMT-5