manuel arturo abreu


The font of winter
of exhausted hours
small breaths expelled like voodoo
the fountain of doves

The Spring canvas
blank and sprinkling

in the blinking dusky windowpane
remembering the densest emptiness
in a foggy cup

I want one specific memory of you
to be the only one left

A specific owner:
the jealous swan
that opens to the stony eyelash

Now winter is a Bone
not everything Is an image

these hungry serifs of wind
Things decay into the empirical
I’m standing in the street again



dropcrotch sunset
pillory clinton
the unreal has been colonized
nostalgia is violence
tin foil sock
literal frenemy
freon vibes
wake up sheeople
don’t let forget
friends don’t let friends
no nothing
pink discussion
digital vellum



‘ayy lmao’ like a coo in the distance
impending panic attack from a govt form’s length
the idea of being a citizen is depressing
the humor of kafka (or anything)
is the horror of it being funny
my stomach turns on a dime
i puke out dead wings and bile
real artists have hunger breath *exhales*
it’s been a slow give black ppl money month
check out this inconceivable indigeneity
need to buy a replacement circular fluorescent light
look at the gloating spiderwebs on the bong!
my paypal is garageresidency at gmail dot com
trying to find out whether i dated a literal nazi
also one of those mail-order dna tests sounds fun
let me google that for u (“tragic mulatto”)
i’m starting a new blog it’s about wittgenstein’s dick
i would kill myself but like i’m too cool also too lazy
i can see ur body tighten like a noose around dark skin
you ask me to stretch you out but
suicide is expensive, gender is expensive
race is the money of the real
when the loud runs out i feel death’s chill


MANUEL ARTURO ABREU (b. 1991, Santo Domingo) is a poet and artist from the Bronx. Their work is about precarity, magical thinking, and the likelihood of surviving. Their first book List of Consonants is available from Bottlecap Press. See more at and @Deezius.