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Dig Bos

The Dig - Boston's Only Newspaper

EXCERPT: POETRY FOR THE NEON APOCALYPSE

Written by DIG STAFF Posted October 29, 2018 Filed Under: A+E, Books

ALL POEMS BY JAKE TRINGALI @JAKETHEPOET

 

The following have been reprinted with permission from Poetry for the Neon Apocalypse, out now on Transcendent Zero Press.

 

invisible ink

it is not widely known but

god has a tattoo

 

she got it when she was a young anarchist

and bored of the endless

 

the tattoo started as one elegant equation

that transformed into a candle,

bloomed into a colorful zoo of particles,

and coalesced into droplets of universes

 

once the tattoo was finished,

it was unchangeable

 

inevitably, it faded

god’s interests went elsewhere

 

First published by Poetry Pacific Press in 2016.

 

10 nanometers through history

without credential, wielding the unstable

amid the experimental and slightly elemental

thoughts fluoresce and ebb and shimmer

 

frenetic Wilhelm gadgets and levers

hand jives atop shiny laboratory apparatus

banging and shredding in an unlikely tool shed

 

sparking dimensions, slimming the spectrum

no dynamo hypothesis, less method, more madness

he nobly finds X inside extended senses

 

the seeker Wilhelm stands cyber-eyed

licking platinocyanide off cathode bodies

conjuring ghosts, glimpsing death

 

First published in Corner Club Press in 2015.

 

of no consequence

vast webs of interconnectedness

star system to star system

cat’s cradles of galaxies

the bustling transit systems of the enlightened

 

the tiny blue planet and its cousins dance

near their central sun

 

a thin film develops on the planet skin

parasitic, slowly becoming aware of its host

and its darker cousins

calculations are made, and they are all traveling together

very fast indeed

 

no one glances as the blue planet

slingshots about the cosmos

known only to themselves

 

and just like that

dying in a blink

homo oblivium

 

First published by Harbinger Asylum in 2016.

 

The ladies laughed darkly

Five harpies converge

Their barman must emerge

Ice cubes hide submerged

In the late hours

The ladies laughed darkly

 

Eyebrows drawn, mouths cuss

Cloudy tattoos subcutaneous

Their alcoholic rage is just

In the late hours

The ladies laughed darkly

 

Giggles conceal secrets within

Abyssal midnight, howling

Deep in drink, prayers hidden

In the late hours

The ladies laughed darkly

 

Whispered plans of attack

Each, a wicked pyromaniac

Ember eyes, shades of not black

In the late hours

The ladies laughed darkly

 

These scorned flowers

With fathomless powers

Mankind cowers

In the late hours

The ladies laughed darkly

 

First published in The Manhattanville Review in 2014.

 

ignore alien orders

it helped stop / the feelings

when i wrapped the silver coated / skull cap around my head

the signal was blocked and I felt / myself again

and you were skeptical / no, you’re wrong

 

inside the train is the worst / they can hear me

strangely / i can’t stop pleading for them to listen

my sensitivity heightened / at a lower depth

bulleting through the bustling city / million stories and frequencies

i am grounded / underground

 

magnetic shielding calms me / the world shifts back and slows

the radio waves bounce right off / up to 35 decibels

and the wrist strap works best / under aquarius

headaches are just a symptom / a broken echo

when did you hear that / oh, it’s best left unsaid

 

300% more ionization / my schedule is off

to sleep under a faraday cage / would free my spirits

they can hear / from very, very, very far away

 

bugs permeate my tissue cultures / i know how things work

microwaves are lesser bugs / allied to the government

 

the van allens / shield poison whispers

but wireless radiation / transports thoughts as a butterfly

tin foil is only for my sandwich / no, you’re wrong

 

First published by Unrorean in 2015

 


 

Jake is a poet living in Boston. Poetry for the Neon Apocalypse can be purchased online or in local bookstores. Catch Jake’s book release party at the Midway Cafe in Jamaica Plain on Sunday, Nov 4 from 4 pm to 8 pm.

DIG STAFF

Dig Staff means this article was a collaborative effort. Teamwork, as we like to call it.

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Filed Under: A+E, Books Tagged With: JAKE TRINGALI, Poetry for the Neon Apocalypse

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