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About this poet

Justin Marks is the author of You're Going to Miss Me When You're Bored (Barrelhouse Books, 2014) and A Million in Prizes (New Issues Poetry & Prose, 2009), which was chosen by Carl Phillips as the winner of the 2009 New Issues Poetry Prize. He is co-founder of Birds, LLC and lives in Queens, New York. 

The Split Ends of My Beard Have Split Ends

My natural instincts are hardly ever right. When I sleep there is a voice in my ear coming through a cheerleader's megaphone in a really bizarre language. I understand fully. The world is out the window. When we wake on the weekends and my wife wants sex, I say, the furniture is feline, let's just snuggle. Then I get up to pee. Nothing's as good as you think it is. I'm old enough now to say of my past, that was a different time, I'm a different person. What was that noise? Successful ideas spring from great people. There is this music I heard once and if I could just have it with me at all times, there's no telling what I'd do. I'd like very much to speak the way I'm spoken to when I sleep, to have the perfect cheer. I'd also like to live forever among the brilliant colored cups of the tulips, but know how likely that isn't. If you want my advice, get out while you still can.

From A Million in Prizes by Justin Marks. Copyright © 2009 by Justin Marks. Used by permission of New Issues Poetry & Prose, Western Michigan University. All rights reserved.

From A Million in Prizes by Justin Marks. Copyright © 2009 by Justin Marks. Used by permission of New Issues Poetry & Prose, Western Michigan University. All rights reserved.

Justin Marks

Justin Marks

Justin Marks is the author of You're Going to Miss Me When You're Bored (Barrelhouse Books, 2014) and A Million in Prizes (New Issues Poetry & Prose, 2009), which was chosen by Carl Phillips as the winner of the 2009 New Issues Poetry Prize. He is co-founder of Birds, LLC and lives in Queens, New York. 

by this poet

poem

Sometimes saying things helps
me see them    The memory
of a sacred so and so    Commands
written into the code    My hair
is a joke       There was an error
creating the error message,
says the computer    We will win
and publish our enemies

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2
poem

I live in New York City and a horse
goes clopping by my window.
Then I don’t
hear the horse anymore.
All promises
have been broken.
I lie in bed and pretend
to sleep. On occasion
I see babies sleeping,
little ones lying
on their backs
with baby bones
and

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