A Catalog Of Quiet, Burning Things

A collection of poetry and essays by Guérin Asante

Guérin Asante

writer | poet | painter | photographer | sentient rainbow | 🏳️‍🌈 | ATL & all points skyward

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(for Dennett)


For as long as mornings know the key in which we swing

—In Light—

We are light in light, our skin up here unties, leaning back until it catches wind within this height & hides where you or I would be…


Before September moved me through your door, too many younger embers rendered any trust I had to give as cinders, and living meant little…

Today’s Chiaroscuro

Today’s chiaroscuro is outstretched, the alabaster cast across a hospital mattress, fastened to pneumonic lungs, his black reflection…

12 Mins. from Sagittarius B

Tonight we sleep divided like twin mirrors, made to separate along the city limits that might as well be light-years wider than those…


Whatever phrases shake themselves loose for me to turn

Nascent Bones

How can we define this modern brine we find ourselves in, given how much time we spend our lives painting fading shelves or fighting every…


Let me be clear, here, there are no phantom sleeves

19 & 10 Ft. Down

Nineteen found twenty-one’s left thumb pressed in his left eye until he kicked himself to free,


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