What began as monthly newsletters and inspiration from his life as a musician became a compilation of writing gathered over a few years and other miscellaneous components. Embracing an indefinable branch of contemporary poetics and literature, Lorin’s debut manuscript, Re-edit, contributes to the evolution of abstract truth, social standard, and spiritual discovery. A chronological in the midst of journey, this collective includes free-form prose, haiku, flash fiction, word art, and experimental verse. All of which affords an epistemology of the primordial being’s dismantlement of hierarchical egotism.
Re-edit © 2015
Edited by Kay Hart Publishing.
Visit Lorin on Poets & Writers: https://www.pw.org/content/lorin_drexler
On the Road
It’s not where but who that makes the difference.
Wandering gypsyz with suitcase graveled mouths and potbelly posture, meadowlessly imaginariumed between railroad footprince. A rose-colored triple-bypass crescents while shrunken selves become swingsets of lint-filled giants with brown-stained migraines attempting to detergent the yellow barnyard smell, dodging the other wilted cycled waltzers.
I punch through walls and more walls repeat, glitch-forward-glitch-back-glitchglitch. I hear teeth statically warming mittened hands. I feel that man’s barbaric anger as if he were an unpracticing strep tuba. Face empty and operaless signs of accidental rusty banana nails. Emergency window wedding under a rotting doomsday tree sky.
Underwater, I feel myself drowning as I learn to differentiate the first from the maiden. I am my own father.
We are rubix,
We are geometrix. I am predicting death
She’s crying. Face bled and ink blank. Tears like rope burn. I’m laughing. Face unsung. Ocean mask dipping in paranoid wax. Waking the dungeoning wood-colored dragon, made only with soluble hate and bubbling after adventures—orange pimp coat and flame bathing.
We are imaginary need-paint stained glass finities, pretending we can hide our thoughts. Feelings—floodways to remember youthful spirits eldering as we carry forth a new generation with paper-cut-perfect cinematographs of a once fulfilled, sufferless child, who now detached, understands only latter.
Spoken in silent remission, only whispers to ripple over our next few lives.
The homeless man pushes off, whirlishly squinting, locking eyes with the sun as if recognizing a friend of the past. The orange cream night slunchingly blankets his thought of peace—
What is Gen Society?
Gen Society is an art space blog for visual art and creative writing collaborations, and other randomizations. Hosted by writer and musician Lorin Drexler, this online venue is an expressive experience for those interested in the world of the arts. It is a literary journey through the hearts and minds of contemporary artists in practice and a reflection of those who have long passed.
If you’re an artist and would like to submit your work in consideration to collaborate with Gen Society, please click below: