hungry :P
foodie & poet in Seattle
associate literary editor at Hobart
work in KHÔRA, Feign, BULL, Resurrection Mag, & more
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I wish I could write anything about rage but I can only write about wanting things I will never have since things in the past can’t be changed or given
By Joe Nasta | Seattle foodie poet4 years ago in Poets
To: daddy@[redactedhedgefund].com From: DisgracedSon99@[FakeEmail].net Re: I'm back and I'm watching you 25 June 2022 Upper West Side
By Joe Nasta | Seattle foodie poet4 years ago in Fiction
Do you like my outfit, bro? I wore red, white, and blue to pose in the mirror athletically. My coworker complimented my arms
It’s absolutely absurd but when the email says, “I am going to love you for the rest of my life,” I really do mean it.
Virulent madness & everything you touch dies with you. // After a few weeks I remembered power and forgot // everything I believed in —
No One Can Name A Poem After A Month Ever Again A few days, rain. The sun sets later behind the lake. Thank you, winter,
You’ve never been to Honolulu. Let me take you in my mind. . I’ll meet you at the airport, whip you straight downtown to show you
Plug in for the next generation: One foot out of a loafer, Bright colors & reflective surfaces,
1. They say only the good die young, and isn’t that right: . I’m not a bad boy but I bought a leather jacket. . I am still alive.
I created something wretched And called it beautiful, then I went for a walk. I swear I’m not addicted to love. I’m addicted to Sagittarians falling
I pretended not to know what you meant when you emailed me asking: . Was it a dream? You would wake up tomorrow and I would be in your bed,
We met in secret but I cannot say the evening air; your hair is wet but I cannot say your name. We, when nightfall
