poems, Dylan Krieger
11:11 Press, 2021
With a punk patience for the previously prophetic, poet Dylan Krieger, in soft-focus slaughterhouse, predicts with the grey comedy of deep presence what pain is losing to our collectively photographic memory of being invasively untouched. This is a verse the closes distance with the body actual, a verse that does not suffer suffering, a verse somewhat for the uncrucified astronaut indebted to imagery but really and wholly for those who can remain nostalgic for prognosis while knowing how sick it is to leave one’s affliction to another. This is a poetry of essential saying, of wordplay and wordwork, and language needs to catch up.
reflection by Barton Smock
book is here
Nine Mile, 2020
Oh what smoky anatomies abound in Dylan Krieger’s Metamortuary. This is music, a fatigue learned by osmosis, and Krieger is a metamorphosister, a conductor whose verse shepherds the black from every unborn sheep into the brightness of the spiritual body’s pop ruin. Full of deconstructed wordplay and subliminal gestations, Metamortuary indicts deeply and paroles the self to a transfixed mirror where one can be seen as the two it takes to weigh a bullhorn with the incubation period of a peephole. I have not known such a humane loneliness to exist, let alone to have been created from the orphaned nothingness and plural threesome of biology, weather, and locale. Each of the book’s four sections, Dangerous Meat / Raw War / Quiet Catastrophes / Eternal End-Times, is a detached possession belonging to the same church of an absent and holy endeavor where Krieger stages population myths for an imagined audience of resuscitated reanimations with a language so alive and so secretly killed that it renders irrelevant the spelling that revelation too often uses to sound out the shape of its more basic priests. In other words, there are no other words. Creation is the vacuum. And may all of our current surgeons go, by design, to a dust once breathed by Krieger’s needed and presently corrected demons.
book releases January 30th, 2020
pre-order, here: ninemile.org