Literature of the Black Sun. Publisher of Vestiges.
with thanks to jared daniel fagan at black sun lit for publishing these two poems in digital vestiges

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Literature of the Black Sun. Publisher of Vestiges.
with thanks to jared daniel fagan at black sun lit for publishing these two poems in digital vestiges

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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from "Human Is to Wander" published by The Center for Literary Publishing at Colorado State University
A poem from my book, Human Is to Wander, was featured at POETRY DAILY on March 12 – many thanks to PD for that!
My book is in the world. Order at link below!
Published by The Center for Literary Publishing at Colorado State UniversityWinner of the 2022 Colorado Prize for Poetry “What happens
Reading three poems from HUMAN IS TO WANDER, coming out November 2022 and available right here:
https://upcolorado.com/university-press-of-colorado/item/6245-human-is-to-wander
Adrian Lürssen was born and raised in Cape Town, South Africa, and Washington, D.C. and has lived for the last three decades in the San Francisco Bay Area. His poetry has appeared in Fence, Witness, Interim, American Letters & Commentary, Boston Review, Posit Journal, and places elsewhere. He was recognized as a finalist in the […]
Book is out in November.
Q&A about the book is out ... now.

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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chapbook out now from Trainwreck Press 😎
https://www.trainwreckpress.com/neowise
Colorado Prize for Poetry Learn about the Colorado Prize for Poetry book contest Home » Colorado Prize for Poetry The Colorado Prize for Poetry is an international poetry book manuscript contest established in 1995. Each year’s prizewinner receives a $2,500 honorarium and publication of his or her book by the Center for Literary Publishing. The […]
Pleased to share that poet Gillian Conoley selected my manuscript HUMAN IS TO WANDER for the 2022 Colorado Prize in Poetry.
The book will be published by the Center for Literary Publishing in November, 2022.
Excerpts from Briefings, collaborations with Norma Cole upcoming in the Bay Area-based Second Stutter
Adrian Lurssen Born and raised in South Africa, Adrian Lurssen lives in the San Francisco Bay Area. His poetry has appeared...
Thank you DW Adams and Train: A Poetry Journal
DADA defined?

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look into the heart capable of trouble...
5 Questions with Michael Palmer, author of Little Elegies for Sister Satan
Michael Palmer is an American born in New York City in 1943 and long resident in San Francisco, nearly all of Palmer's poetry is published by New Directions: At Passages (1995); The Lion Bridge: Selected Poems 1972–1995 (1998); The Promises of Glass (2000); Codes Appearing: Poems 1979–1988 (2001); Company of Moths (2005); and most recently, Thread (2011). He is the translator of works by Emmanuel Hocquard, Vicente Huidobro, and Alexei Parshchikov, among others, and the editor of Code of Signals: Recent Writings in Poetics. For over thirty years he has collaborated with the Margaret Jenkins Dance Company.
His newest book of poems is Little Elegies for Sister Satan (also published by New Directions). Michael Palmer is reading from his new book, along with Erica Hunt (who is celebrating her new book of poems, Jump the Clock: New and Selected Poems, published by Nightboat) in our City Lights LIVE! discussion series on Tuesday, May 4th!
*****
Where are you writing to us from?
I am writing to you from a secret location not all that far from City Lights as the Dream Drone flies. In 1963, before I lived anywhere, Allen Ginsberg brought me to City Lights for the first time, where I purchased a copy of Michael McClure’s Dark Brown (Auerhahn Press), shelved then in the locked room among the works subject to possible criminal prosecution.
What’s kept you sane during the pandemic?
I’d like to know who’s accusing me of being sane? I will be taking names.
What books are you reading right now? Which books do you return to?
As an act of self-abnegation, throughout the lockdown I have limited my reading (and rereading) to bestsellers. It seems that every day, I read at random from Wisława Szymborska’s collected and last poems, Map (translated by Clare Cavanagh and Stanisław Barańczak), as well as Mahmoud Darwish’s The Butterfly’s Burden (tr. Fady Joudah). I am finding my way back through Nate Mackey’s various prose and verse sequences, written across an illuminated lifetime. Of the several hundred other books of fiction, philosophy, writings on art, interviews, poetry, and social and political theory that I’ve begun, perused or read through during the lockdown, I have mostly fond if fading memories, like loves from an earlier life. Oh yes, and one day a week I’ve been reading aloud from The Decameron to friends in my pod. Yesterday we reached Day 8, Story 4.
Which writers, artists, and others influence your work in general, and this book, specifically?
I am a magpie in this regard, stealing from my betters, living and gone, as I try in vain to listen to the Book of the World and record its echoes. And when I confront the artificial barriers, the walls, erected between nations by the corrupt and corrupting forces of power, I do my best to fly over them. From Szymborska’s “Psalm”:
Oh, the leaky boundaries of man-made states! How many clouds float past them with impunity; how much desert sand shifts from one land to another; how many mountain pebbles tumble onto foreign soil in provocative hops! Need I mention every single bird that flies in the face of frontiers or alights on the roadblock at the border?
If you opened a bookstore, where would it be located, what would it be called, and what would your bestseller be?
Poets should never open bookstores, only patronize them as often as possible, while neglecting what others erroneously consider to be real life. It was in 1953 (I was ten) that Ferlinghetti came to me in a vision and asked whether he should invest in a bookstore with Peter Martin. I warned him in the most strenuous terms not to become involved, that it would be the ruin of him, and that nobody reads good books. And so it came to pass.
PAGE empty to the closing sen- tence of excitement sounded on
Read in: Poetry Lab Shanghai, Summer 2020 issue
MANIFEST
Not the cotton husks, dried as they are in our
lacquer boxes. Nor the masks — angular
blood casting shadow on the walls
Neither the rabbit skins nor the hats — locks
that stand for love. Not the landscapes (Western?)
torn from the frame — hand-rolled
gold and green gasses of history
Not the roomful of shoes nor the train
that brought them here. Not the hair the straw
the bead-eyes watching again as for justice...
[...read on]

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Landscape No Longer In a Mother Tongue …to speak like one’s mother, means to dwell, even there where there are no tents —Paul Celan I am his voice she said in spite of silence. A definition n…
A process of speaking without language,
of prolonging lives of animals in the delicate
etch and plunge and rhythm of his unstoppable
Adam’s apple. He spoke but she was speaking.
[read on]
Michael Palmer: “You open the door / with the eye’s hidden lid”