ARTICLES BY caluml
77

Poem

Calum Lockey

02.03.17

“Did an artist with such psycho-aesthetic investment in the invagination of commercial space ever stop to consider what might happen if, courtesy of a wildly inverting repetition, the phantasmic derangements of capitalism or branding embroiled in his concession shoppe and its merging of philosophical and commercial notions re-rendezvoused to, vagina dentata-like, bite him in the ass?” New poetry by Calum Lockey, from late winter poetry editor Aurelia Guo.