From “feeld”

        bieng tran is a unique kinde off organe / i am speeching

        materialie / i am speeching abot hereditie / a tran

        entres thru the hole / the hole glomes inn the linden / a

        tran entres eather lik a mothe / wile tran preceds esense

        / her forme is contingent on the feeld / the maner sits

        cis with inn a feeld / wee speeche inn 2 the eather / wile

        the mothe bloomes / the mothe bloomes inn the yuca


Copyright © 2018 by Jos Charles. Originally published in Poem-a-Day on January 17, 2018, by the Academy of American Poets.

About this Poem
“This was the first poem I completed for the project that would become feeld. The effect of the poem was meant to be a kind of stitch-work achieved by juxtaposing concrete references (from internet speak, phenomenology, technical writing, identity politics, poststructuralist jargons, etc.) within a more compact, plain-spoken syntax. One of the things I was excited by with this project was the poem's capacity to, rather than define its particulars, blot them out, foregrounding gesture, traces, lines. This forces, at least for me, a stepping back to consider the poem as a placement of competing spaces, material possibilities, and histories, within language, than an argument or conclusion.”
—Jos Charles