“Chrysalides”

One thousand tiny Laura Palmers wrapped in plastic are hanging off strands of David Lynch’s hair and the Guardian of the Chrysalides is walking around with a stick tending to them, writing observational notes on a flipboard, grumbling. After a couple of hours, the Laura Palmers begin to emerge from their plastic pods and when they do I can see that their interiors are like The Red Room, with the same heavy drapes and zig-zag flooring. Then 1000 of these Laura Palmers start screaming—blood curdling screams that vibrate and reverberate through me—bringing me to my knees on David Lynch’s scalp. The Guardian of the Chrysalides says this is to be expected. He inhales an unspecified substance from a medical mask hooked up to a canister and turns into a blue velvet cocoon as the Laura Palmer butterflies take flight.

This is a previously unreleased prose poem by Vik Shirley. You can find her books and prints and more right here.

Writing prompt: Choose a non-David Lynch cinematic universe or film franchise or director’s filmography. Jurassic Park, Tim Burton, Wes Anderson, Studio Ghibli, etc. From there, write a prose poem using elements from those selected films. Characters, objects, themes, scenes. Like Shirley, begin to blend and mold and mesh and fold these names and items into a surrealist fever dream. What does it look like when hundreds of velociraptors begin pouring out of your ears? How might Wes Anderson react if his scenes were to suddenly lose symmetry and color? I recently finished the first season of Alien: Earth, so I’m thinking of how I might write about Xenomorphs and androids in a way that’s even more surreal and strange than the show. That is the task. Godspeed.

If you write something based on this prompt, please share it by commenting directly here or posting on socials and tagging myself (neonpajamas on all platforms) and/or Vik Shirley (vikshirls1 on Instagram and vikshirley on Bsky/Twitter). It’s a great day to create something new. Good luck!

While this Substack will always be free, I’d be remiss to not mention my new poetry press. Piżama Press. We launched in 2025 and our two latest releases are out now! Split / Game of Little Deaths by Réka Nyitrai and John’s Table by Lesle Lewis. Both are unique collections of (prose) poems and unlike anything else you’ll read this year. You’d be really helping a small indie press and these wonderful poets by ordering one (or both) of these books, as well as spreading the word (social media, Goodreads, local library, local bookseller). And, if you haven’t done so already, please check out last year’s inaugural release, Kiik Araki-Kawaguchi’s Disintegration Made Plain and Easy, which continues to reach new readers eager to find something strange and surreal, different and original. After all, Piżama’s mantra is “The weirder, the better.” See you next Sunday!

“bedtime story”

"i leap down from the platform's edge and follow the biggest rat across the tracks into the tunnel. sounds bloom in the darkness. river water seeps through the ceiling. the rat guides me by the flare of his eyes. soon we step through a small door into a modest apartment warmed by matchlight and walls of plaid. the rat sits at his card table and is suddenly large as a man. he shows me his writing. each is a sonnet of only thirteen lines. each is entitled the sixth extinction. his daughter wakes up, stands in the doorway dressed in pajamas two sizes too small. she asks who this strange person is sitting in her living room. 'the last spaceman,' her father says. she rubs her eyes and saying nothing heads back to bed."

This is a previously unreleased prose poem by J.M. Baker. You can find additional prose poems by Baker right here and right here.

Writing prompt: Write your own bedtime story. With every new sentence, follow the path of the previous sentence, without worrying about where it will go or how it might end. See where an enhanced dream logic takes you on the page. Rats can become as large as men. Pajamas can shrink. Someone can be described as “the last spaceman.” Rub your eyes, give us your biggest yawn, and get to writing. If you need help getting started, begin with “Once upon a time…” or, “Once, there was…” or, “As soon as I close my eyes…”

If you write something based on this prompt, please share it by commenting directly here or posting on socials and tagging myself (neonpajamas on all platforms). It’s a great day to create something new. Good luck!

While this Substack will always be free, I’d be remiss to not mention my new poetry press. Piżama Press. We launched in 2025 and our two latest releases are out now! Split / Game of Little Deaths by Réka Nyitrai and John’s Table by Lesle Lewis. Both are unique collections of (prose) poems and unlike anything else you’ll read this year. You’d be really helping a small indie press and these wonderful poets by ordering one (or both) of these books, as well as spreading the word (social media, Goodreads, local library, local bookseller). And, if you haven’t done so already, please check out last year’s inaugural release, Kiik Araki-Kawaguchi’s Disintegration Made Plain and Easy, which continues to reach new readers eager to find something strange and surreal, different and original. After all, Piżama’s mantra is “The weirder, the better.” See you next Sunday!

“Picturing it Thusly”

Running full speed with
a cooler full of hearts.

Wearing a vest bomb
over a Hawaiian shirt.

Picturing it thusly
in your mind's eye.

How you could have been
doing life with justice.

A pig named Justice
releasing a little fart.

This is a previously unreleased poem by Evan Nicholls. You can find his latest book (Easy Tiger with Future Tense Books) and more of his publications (and collages) right here.

Writing prompt: “Running full speed with / a cooler full of hearts.” !!! What an opening for a poem. Write a ten line poem made up of five couplets. Like Nicholls’ wonderful poem, began with a strong visual action shot. Is someone running or jumping or flying or dying? What are they doing? What are they holding? What are they wearing? From there, see where your imagination takes you. You might find yourself fully describing and building out a scene. You might find yourself pivoting and giving an animal a name. You might find yourself. You might.

If you write something based on this prompt, please share it by commenting directly here or posting on socials and tagging myself (neonpajamas on all platforms) and/or Evan Nicholls (evancollage on Instagram). It’s a great day to create something new. Good luck!

While this Substack will always be free, I’d be remiss to not mention my new poetry press. Piżama Press. We launched in 2025 and our two latest releases are out now! Split / Game of Little Deaths by Réka Nyitrai and John’s Table by Lesle Lewis. Both are unique collections of (prose) poems and unlike anything else you’ll read this year. You’d be really helping a small indie press and these wonderful poets by ordering one (or both) of these books, as well as spreading the word (social media, Goodreads, local library, local bookseller). And, if you haven’t done so already, please check out last year’s inaugural release, Kiik Araki-Kawaguchi’s Disintegration Made Plain and Easy, which continues to reach new readers eager to find something strange and surreal, different and original. After all, Piżama’s mantra is “The weirder, the better.” See you next Sunday!

“Take Care”

This is a previously unreleased shape poem by Madeline Blair. You can find more of her writing (and films) right here.

Writing prompt: Write a shape poem. It may sound simple, but they’re quite tricky, so I won’t give you any more rules. It can be any shape you like. In Blair’s case, it’s a figure eight (or an infinity symbol on its side?), but feel free to first try with a circle or a square or a pyramid or a star. Years ago, while part of a generative writing workshop with Vi Khi Nao, she had us make a number of shape poems. It was my first time attempting this form, and the lines/phrases that came out of such a constraint was rather enlightening for me. I hope it’s the same for you!

If you write something based on this prompt, please share it by commenting directly here or posting on socials and tagging myself (neonpajamas on all platforms) and/or Madeline Blair (m.s.blair on Instagram, magnoliasskye on Twitter). It’s a great day to create something new. Good luck!

While this Substack will always be free, I’d be remiss to not mention my new poetry press. Piżama Press. We launched in 2025 and our two latest releases are out now! Split / Game of Little Deaths by Réka Nyitrai and John’s Table by Lesle Lewis. Both are unique collections of (prose) poems and unlike anything else you’ll read this year. You’d be really helping a small indie press and these wonderful poets by ordering one (or both) of these books, as well as spreading the word (social media, Goodreads, local library, local bookseller). And, if you haven’t done so already, please check out last year’s inaugural release, Kiik Araki-Kawaguchi’s Disintegration Made Plain and Easy, which continues to reach new readers eager to find something strange and surreal, different and original. After all, Piżama’s mantra is “The weirder, the better.” See you next Sunday!

“prompt”

Write a poem in which the idea of sunlight through a window is simultaneously a half-glimpsed fox and a bedraggled hymn. Does it sleep when it should be evoking? What is the nature of its neglected tasks, and who must suffer for that neglect? Write its journey of discovery in stages, as in a pilgrimage. Will there be other pilgrims along the way? Will the poem share its damp bread, or instead pretend it has no common language, gibbering at the stiff bandanas and decorated walking sticks? Have your fox/hymn awaken in the pilgrims a strange glowing desire, for what they can never articulate. Have the sun rise and set and rise again, as they make their muddy way among the stones. Have water. Have mercy. Have bread.

This is a previously unreleased poem/prompt by Laura Walker. You can find her six published poetry collections (and more) right here.

Writing prompt: Write a prose poem disguised as a writing prompt. Begin with “Write a poem” and go from there. You can be as a concrete or as abstract as you like. Ask questions, make up rules, go off the rails. Be driven less by logic, less by helpful writing suggestions, and more by rhythm, image, and sound. Do not tell your words where they are going next. Instead, see where your words take you.

If you write something based on this prompt, please share it by commenting directly here or posting on socials and tagging myself (neonpajamas on all platforms). It’s a great day to create something new. Good luck!

While this Substack will always be free, I’d be remiss to not mention my new poetry press. Piżama Press. We launched in 2025 and our two latest releases are out now! Split / Game of Little Deaths by Réka Nyitrai and John’s Table by Lesle Lewis. Both are unique collections of (prose) poems and unlike anything else you’ll read this year. You’d be really helping a small indie press and these wonderful poets by ordering one (or both) of these books, as well as spreading the word (social media, Goodreads, local library, local bookseller). And, if you haven’t done so already, please check out last year’s inaugural release, Kiik Araki-Kawaguchi’s Disintegration Made Plain and Easy, which continues to reach new readers eager to find something strange and surreal, different and original. After all, Piżama’s mantra is “The weirder, the better.” See you next Sunday!

“[Beneath]”

Beneath halation,

a night sky ascends toward where

a light beneath the hole expands the whole.

We are dressed as road monks

sipping tonics of asphalt,

ladder-tongued,

leaving you access to our insides.

I live in a halo,

I say hey like a creature.

This is a previously unreleased poem by Evan Williams. You can find more of their writing right here.

Writing prompt: I really love this poem. So much is covered in just nine lines and 44 words. Using Williams’ structure as your template / starting point, write a short poem (10 lines or less) where the first few lines describe the setting. How’s the moon doing? What might the forest (or parking lot, or basement) resemble? Where can you safely (or chaotically) drop your reader as they tumble out of the sky? Then, use your next few lines to introduce a cast of characters. The “we” of the poem. What are y’all wearing? What's the mission? How are you acting? What brought you all here, today, to be inside of this poem? Then, lastly, step away from the “we” and incorporate the “I” for the first time, closing the poem with back-to-back I’s. Bonus points if you, like Williams, take the first word of your poem and use it as the title in brackets. As always, if your drafts begin to stray from these rules/confines, stray away! These are simply malleable measures to help you approach the blank page.

If you write something based on this prompt, please share it by commenting directly here or posting on socials and tagging myself (neonpajamas on all platforms) and/or Evan Williams (evansquilliams on Instagram). It’s a great day to create something new. Good luck!

While this Substack will always be free, I’d be remiss to not mention my new poetry press. Piżama Press. We launched in 2025 and our two latest releases are out now! Split / Game of Little Deaths by Réka Nyitrai and John’s Table by Lesle Lewis. Both are unique collections of (prose) poems and unlike anything else you’ll read this year. You’d be really helping a small indie press and these wonderful poets by ordering one (or both) of these books, as well as spreading the word (social media, Goodreads, local library, local bookseller). And, if you haven’t done so already, please check out last year’s inaugural release, Kiik Araki-Kawaguchi’s Disintegration Made Plain and Easy, which continues to reach new readers eager to find something strange and surreal, different and original. After all, Piżama’s mantra is “The weirder, the better.” See you next Sunday!

“At the Waystation”

When I licked yellow
lilies, the monarch
mocked my tongue. 

This is a previously unreleased poem by Ori Fienberg. You can find more of his writing right here and you can learn about his unique new journal right here.

Writing prompt: Write a poem that is ten words or less. Depending on the final word count, make sure your poem (and its title) totals up to an odd number. Fienberg’s poem (including the title) is thirteen total words. If you write a nine word poem, the title must be two (or four) words, for example. Bonus points if your poem is one single sentence. Even more bonus points if your poem has a comma (or semicolon) at the halfway mark. Given this constraint, take note of all you can do within such a minimal amount of room.

If you write something based on this prompt, please share it by commenting directly here or posting on socials and tagging myself (neonpajamas on all platforms) and/or Ori Fienberg (artfulherring on both Bluesky and Instagram). It’s a great day to create something new. Good luck!

While this Substack will always be free, I’d be remiss to not mention my new poetry press. Piżama Press. We launched in 2025 and our two latest releases are out now! Split / Game of Little Deaths by Réka Nyitrai and John’s Table by Lesle Lewis. Both are unique collections of (prose) poems and unlike anything else you’ll read this year. You’d be really helping a small indie press and these wonderful poets by ordering one (or both) of these books, as well as spreading the word (social media, Goodreads, local library, local bookseller). And, if you haven’t done so already, please check out last year’s inaugural release, Kiik Araki-Kawaguchi’s Disintegration Made Plain and Easy, which continues to reach new readers eager to find something strange and surreal, different and original. After all, Piżama’s mantra is “The weirder, the better.” See you next Sunday!

“cannot contain the letter M”

you
cannot contain the water pouring
the vessels in your hands mis-
hearing transposed.      hello      good
morning.              my daughter my
well

when
you arrive find these names give
this address do you feel.            light
piled high like    spun wool
the water still in my palms
the

weather in the trees 

This is a previously unreleased poem by Danika Stegeman. You can find more of her writing and art right here.

Writing prompt: According to Stegeman, her poem “cannot contain the letter M” is “something I wrote based on a prompt by my friend Angie Mazakis that’s based on a prompt by Leila Chatti. I absolutely broke most of the rules.” Your prompt is to write a poem inspired by (or directly imitating) Stegeman’s poem, which was inspired by Mazakis’ prompt, which was inspired by Chatti’s prompt. Treat it like a game of poetic telephone. Try to exclude a letter from your poem, then add that letter in during a later edit. In other words: give yourself rules and break the rules. Mirror the poem above, or find a favorite poem from your shelf and take note of their structure/constraint, replicating it with your own voice, then disrupting it so as to not resemble the original source material by the time your poem is “done” (is the poem ever done?).

By the time your poem is ready to share, it should be inspired by a Niespodziany prompt inspired by a Stegeman poem inspired by a Mazakis prompt inspired by a Chatti prompt. Those five names right there (including your own) is its very own literary community.

If you write something based on this prompt, please share it by commenting directly here or posting on socials and tagging myself (neonpajamas on all platforms) and/or Danika Stegeman (danikastegeman on Bluesky and danika_stegeman on Instagram). It’s a great day to create something new. Good luck!

While this Substack will always be free, I’d be remiss to not mention my new poetry press. Piżama Press. We launched in 2025 and our two latest releases are out now! Split / Game of Little Deaths by Réka Nyitrai and John’s Table by Lesle Lewis. Both are unique collections of (prose) poems and unlike anything else you’ll read this year. You’d be really helping a small indie press and these wonderful poets by ordering one (or both) of these books, as well as spreading the word (social media, Goodreads, local library, local bookseller). And, if you haven’t done so already, please check out last year’s inaugural release, Kiik Araki-Kawaguchi’s Disintegration Made Plain and Easy, which continues to reach new readers eager to find something strange and surreal, different and original. After all, Piżama’s mantra is “The weirder, the better.” See you next Sunday!

“TERRARIALANTERN”

“As sunlight and ashes I'll meet you again.”
— Will Cookson

the terrarialantern reveals
what will flutter and what will die
butterflies have often come to my side
when what should be recognizable is no
longer shown no longer conceivable to humans
a gold gossamer barrel of elegant horrors
wings and wings
purple silk plain-weave roses
and green silk velvet leaves
the old ghosts still hover glowing
in the expanse of a light left on
you can see it for miles:
wings and wings and wings and wings

Undercover. Jun Takahashi. Dress, spring/summer 2024

This is a previously unreleased poem by Paul Cunningham, from his unpublished collection Worn. It is an ekphrastic response to Jun Takahashi’s 2024 illuminated butterfly dress. You can find (and order) Cunningham’s four available poetry collections right here.

Writing prompt: Go to Google Images (or another search engine) and simply type “Costume Design.” Browse and scroll until something catches your eye, then write about the outfit(s) you see. Is it a dress full of live butterflies? A coat made of grass? A crown of icicles? Like Cunningham, write an ekphrastic piece inspired by your selected fashion. What stands out? Where does your mind go? Run wild on the page with your first draft, then edit/trim/refine on your second, much like a designer sketching a dress then gathering all of the materials to truly build.

If you write something based on this prompt, please share it by commenting directly here or posting on socials and tagging myself (neonpajamas on all platforms) and/or Paul Cunningham (pcunning1 on Instagram). It’s a great day to create something new. Good luck!

While this Substack will always be free, I’d be remiss to not mention my new poetry press. Piżama Press. We launched in 2025 and our two latest releases are out now! Split / Game of Little Deaths by Réka Nyitrai and John’s Table by Lesle Lewis. Both are unique collections of (prose) poems and unlike anything else you’ll read this year. You’d be really helping a small indie press and these wonderful poets by ordering one (or both) of these books, as well as spreading the word (social media, Goodreads, local library, local bookseller). And, if you haven’t done so already, please check out last year’s inaugural release, Kiik Araki-Kawaguchi’s Disintegration Made Plain and Easy, which continues to reach new readers eager to find something strange and surreal, different and original. After all, Piżama’s mantra is “The weirder, the better.” See you next Sunday!

“Model Vase from a Foundation Deposit, New Kingdom, ca. 1400-1390 B.C.”

They fell in love on safari over a dead lioness, his aim was getting better.

This is a previously unreleased poem by Montana James Thomas. You can order his recently released full-length poetry collection, Concerning the Dinner, right here, and you can order his debut, Pomeranian, right here.

Writing prompt: Write a poem where the title and the poem are the same length. Allow yourself some wiggle room with a word or two, but try to make them as symmetrical as you can. What does a 12 word poem with a 12 word title look like? What does a four word poem with a four word title look like? Bonus points if your poem, like Montana’s, makes a significant leap between title and poem. Try your hand at a few of these until you have one you’re pleased with. Then feel free to trim/edit/adjust/expand, breaking the rules of symmetry for the sake of enhancing/finalizing the poem.

If you create something based on this prompt, please share it by commenting directly here or posting on socials and tagging myself (neonpajamas on all platforms) and/or Montana James Thomas (notmontanajamesthomas on Instagram). It’s a great day to create something new. Good luck!

While this Substack will always be free, I’d be remiss to not mention my new poetry press. Piżama Press. We launched in 2025 and our two latest releases are out now! Split / Game of Little Deaths by Réka Nyitrai and John’s Table by Lesle Lewis. Both are unique collections of (prose) poems and unlike anything else you’ll read this year. You’d be really helping a small indie press and these wonderful poets by ordering one (or both) of these books, as well as spreading the word (social media, Goodreads, local library, local bookseller). And, if you haven’t done so already, please check out last year’s inaugural release, Kiik Araki-Kawaguchi’s Disintegration Made Plain and Easy, which continues to reach new readers eager to find something strange and surreal, different and original. After all, Piżama’s mantra is “The weirder, the better.” See you next Sunday!

“Origin Story”

When my mother was in the hospital to have me she got out of bed to get a drink of water. While she was bent over the water fountain I tumbled out. No one had noticed so she stuck me in the janitor's closet. At least that's how I heard it from the janitor, who raised me on his own. He would leave me in the closet where I slept with his mop and brooms. The mops and brooms—they seemed like my mother, brothers and sisters smiling down at me. 

This is a previously unreleased poem by Richard Garcia. You can find more of his writing on his website right here. He also has a collaborative chapbook coming out with Finishing Line Press in September.

Writing prompt: Write your own origin story by stretching truths, adding lies, incorporating myths, and expanding the lore of your birth. How does your beginning begin? Like the origin story of Richard Garcia (one of my favorite prose poets) and like Shivani Mehta’s “Origin Story” from week 05, try to keep it brief and weird. Less than ten sentences while maintaining the prose poem form. If you’re feeling brave, once you have a draft you’re happy with, include it as the bio for your next reading or digital publication.

If you create something based on this prompt, please share it by commenting directly here or posting on socials and tagging myself (neonpajamas on all platforms) or Richard Garcia (richardgpoet on Facebook). It’s a great day to create something new. Good luck!

While this Substack will always be free, I’d be remiss to not mention my new poetry press. Piżama Press. We launched in 2025 and our two latest releases are out now! Split / Game of Little Deaths by Réka Nyitrai and John’s Table by Lesle Lewis. Both are unique collections of (prose) poems and unlike anything else you’ll read this year. You’d be really helping a small indie press and these wonderful poets by ordering one (or both) of these books, as well as spreading the word (social media, Goodreads, local library, local bookseller). And, if you haven’t done so already, please check out last year’s inaugural release, Kiik Araki-Kawaguchi’s Disintegration Made Plain and Easy, which continues to reach new readers eager to find something strange and surreal, different and original. After all, Piżama’s mantra is “The weirder, the better.” See you next Sunday!

“Minor Deaths”

The girl died at the age of seven from pneumonia but then kept growing older and deeper into her death. At eighteen she was a torch of a sullen dead teenager, stone dead, at twenty-eight she was a composed, measured young dead woman, interested in Oulipo and terrarealist banking systems. Dead at 41 with soft laugh lines and a resigned brown bob that salaciously flirted with her widow’s peak. Dead at 56 with both near and far sightedness and a sadness that, on occasion, wilted to such an extreme that it landed in dark mirth. Dead at 68 and 79 and 91. 98. 99. Laughing alone in the dusk, at 114.  
 
As she grew into her deaths of course her body changed, in all the normal ways of aging. But it was her mouth that, over time, pilloried the body’s ravages. As she died and died again and again it began to shrink, until what was once an oval, spread wide in front of a silent mirror, became, with so many deaths, a tiny speck of darkened air, curdled, immortal to the comings and goings of daily life. The more she died the deeper her breath. Her mouth tracked it all silently.  
 
Later the girl disappeared. Her movements had never been carefully tracked---although acknowledged, her deaths were simply part of the broader social framework of our small rural town—but one morning she was nowhere to be found. It was soon said that she, of a predictable loneliness, had died once again, this time permanently. The suffering of so much reality, endless, and no night ever big enough to contain it...

                             But who’s to say what really happened? For now I speak as a human being, not as just another bird in a cage. And I believe nothing in death. And I believe nothing in death.

This is a previously unreleased poem by Jeff Alessandrelli. You can find more of his writing on his website right here.

Writing prompt: Write a prose poem about a character who dies over and over. Or, write a prose poem about a character who ages in reverse. Or, write a prose poem about someone who is unable to die, aging and fading less like a life cycle and more like a painting. Try to cover as much time as you can with as little words as you can. 100 years in 100 words. Or, one century in one paragraph. Or, one long lifetime in one tiny stanza.

If you create something based on this prompt, please share it by commenting directly here or posting on socials and tagging myself (neonpajamas on all platforms). It’s a great day to create something new. Good luck!

While this Substack will always be free, I’d be remiss to not mention my new poetry press. Piżama Press. We launched in 2025 and our two latest releases are out now! Split / Game of Little Deaths by Réka Nyitrai and John’s Table by Lesle Lewis. Both are unique collections of (prose) poems and unlike anything else you’ll read this year. You’d be really helping a small indie press and these wonderful poets by ordering one (or both) of these books, as well as spreading the word (social media, Goodreads, local library, local bookseller). And, if you haven’t done so already, please check out last year’s inaugural release, Kiik Araki-Kawaguchi’s Disintegration Made Plain and Easy, which continues to reach new readers eager to find something strange and surreal, different and original. After all, Piżama’s mantra is “The weirder, the better.” See you next Sunday!

“You Had to Be There”

the trees
after a tornado

an unlocked car
on an unnamed road

someone’s clothes in a ribcaged pile
near the Niagara River

a snow-filled mattress
on a sunlit walk

her traffic-lit body
in the graveyard dusk

This is a previously unreleased poem by Noah Falck. You can find more of his writing on his website right here.

Writing prompt: Create ten couplets of outdoor/nature observations. They can be written while taking a long walk or while browsing through the website of a national park or a photographer’s portfolio. Keep it image focused. Avoid grammar and punctuation. Once you have your ten couplets, narrow it down to five couplets. Arrange in a way that feels right. When thinking of the title of your poem, like Falck, begin with the word You. If you like some of the scrapped lines you originally wrote and can’t live without them, create a companion piece to your first poem. Place them side by side. See how they interact.

If you create something based on this prompt, please share it by commenting directly here or posting on socials and tagging myself (neonpajamas on all platforms) and/or Noah Falck (noahfalck on Instagram and Bluesky). It’s a great day to create something new. Good luck!

While this Substack will always be free, I’d be remiss to not mention my new poetry press. Piżama Press. We launched in 2025 and our two latest releases are out now! Split / Game of Little Deaths by Réka Nyitrai and John’s Table by Lesle Lewis. Both are unique collections of (prose) poems and unlike anything else you’ll read this year. You’d be really helping a small indie press and these wonderful poets by ordering one (or both) of these books, as well as spreading the word (social media, Goodreads, local library, local bookseller). And, if you haven’t done so already, please check out last year’s inaugural release, Kiik Araki-Kawaguchi’s Disintegration Made Plain and Easy, which continues to reach new readers eager to find something strange and surreal, different and original. After all, Piżama’s mantra is “The weirder, the better.” See you next Sunday!

“Finger Moon”

Behold the long, long moon!
See how it bends at its knucklish hinge?
It looks like it's pointing right at us!
Everyone laughs, but nervously.
Then it shines upon what it wants.
A little blue flower on a ruin,
something it had left.

This is a previously unreleased poem by Zachary Schomburg, from his forthcoming collection, Wool Moon, out in the fall with Black Ocean.

Writing prompt: Study the punctuation of this short poem. The seven lines end with ! ? ! . . , . Write your own seven line poem using the same punctuation at the end of every line. I couldn’t tell you the last time I used two exclamation points in a single poem, so this prompt will hopefully take you out of your comfort zone a little bit. In regards to the topic of your poem, that is up to you. You can be like Schomburg and write your own moon poem, or you can approach it in an entirely different way, as long as those end punctuations remain the same.

If you create something based on this prompt, please share it by commenting directly here or posting on socials and tagging myself (neonpajamas on all platforms) and/or Zachary Schomburg (zacharyschomburg on Instagram). It’s a great day to create something new. Good luck!

While this Substack will always be free, I’d be remiss to not mention my new poetry press. Piżama Press. We launched in 2025 and our two latest releases are out now! John’s Table by Lesle Lewis and Split / Game of Little Deaths by Réka Nyitrai. Both are unique collections of (prose) poems and unlike anything else you’ll read this year. You’d be really helping a small indie press and these wonderful poets by ordering one (or both) of these books, as well as spreading the word (social media, Goodreads, local library, local bookseller). And, if you haven’t done so already, please check out last year’s inaugural release, Kiik Araki-Kawaguchi’s Disintegration Made Plain and Easy, which continues to reach new readers eager to find something strange and surreal, different and original. After all, Piżama’s mantra is “The weirder, the better.” See you next Sunday!

“Kill”

Here’s this thing called thinking.

I’m trying to be brave and to say what I think.

But why bother?

The thoughts will will themselves out.

My mother told me god was love, but she didn’t teach me how to do it.

The animal of love looks up and asks, “Why do you want to kill me?”

This is a previously unreleased poem by Lesle Lewis, from her forthcoming collection, John’s Table, out this week (!!!) with Piżama Press.

Writing prompt: Choose one emotion and choose one animal. Connect them with “of” so it’s the rodent of desire, the hedgehog of jealousy, the elephant of love, etc. Once you have your emotional animal, give it a quote. How does such a beast speak? What might it say? Is it something tender, wicked, strange? Have this line, like Lewis has done in “Kill”, be the final line of your poem. From there, work your way upwards, stacking sentences in reverse until you get to the beginning.

If you create something based on this prompt, please share it by commenting directly here or posting on socials and tagging myself (neonpajamas on all platforms) and/or Lesle Lewis (lesle.lewis on Instagram). It’s a great day to create something new. Good luck!

While this Substack will always be free, I’d be remiss to not mention my new poetry press. Piżama Press launched in 2025 and its next two releases are out this week! John’s Table by Lesle Lewis and Split / Game of Little Deaths by Réka Nyitrai. Both poetry collections will be released on May 27, 2026. You’d be really helping a small indie press and these wonderful poets by pre-ordering one (or both) of these books, as well as spreading the word (social media, Goodreads, local library, local bookseller). And, if you haven’t done so already, please check out last year’s inaugural release, Kiik Araki-Kawaguchi’s Disintegration Made Plain and Easy, which continues to reach new readers eager to find something strange and surreal, different and unique. After all, Piżama’s mantra is “The weirder, the better.” See you next Sunday!

“A Quiet Night”

The crocodile nesting between my breasts
floats passively waiting for prey.
When my lover bends down
to kiss me goodbye, it seizes him.
It’s going to be okay, I tell my lover.
Later, I watch the moon rising
and count the passing clouds
excited about my new life.

This is a previously unreleased poem by Réka Nyitrai, from her forthcoming collection, Split / Game of Little Deaths, out this month with Piżama Press.

Writing prompt: Choose an animal and place it somewhere on or in your body. Do not make it seem out of the ordinary or strange. Act as if everything is normal and fine. A snake around your neck. A bat in your hair. A baby horse in your lungs. With this animal nearby, what happens when someone tries to get close to you? It can be a lover, a stranger, a waiter, a friend. What happens then? Use your final line(s) to detail a new (related or unrelated) image. A redirection, a misdirection, a closing visual to either 1.) wrap it all up or 2.) expand this bizarre world even more.

If you create something based on this prompt, please share it by commenting directly here or posting on socials and tagging myself (neonpajamas on all platforms) and/or Réka Nyitrai (nyitraireka1 on Twitter). It’s a great day to create something new. Good luck!

While this Substack will always be free, I’d be remiss to not mention my new poetry press. Piżama Press launched in 2025 and its next two releases are out this month! John’s Table by Lesle Lewis and Split / Game of Little Deaths by Réka Nyitrai. Both poetry collections will be released on May 27, 2026. You’d be really helping a small indie press and these wonderful poets by pre-ordering one (or both) of these books, as well as spreading the word (social media, Goodreads, local library, local bookseller). And, if you haven’t done so already, please check out last year’s inaugural release, Kiik Araki-Kawaguchi’s Disintegration Made Plain and Easy, which continues to reach new readers eager to find something strange and surreal, different and unique. After all, Piżama’s mantra is “The weirder, the better.” See you next Sunday!

“Drown”

I’ll have to go back to my little room now and lie down in the dark.

My sleep matches the bed.

Meanwhile you’ve been happily writing lyrics.

Then you give up art for love.

Then you are unhappy and give up love for art.

You put your own hand on your own forehead.

You jump into the water and don’t drown.

This is a previously unreleased poem by Lesle Lewis, from her forthcoming collection, John’s Table, out this month with Piżama Press.

Writing prompt: Write a prose poem, but instead of boxing it into a square or rectangle, separate every sentence by hitting the return key. Write a number of sentences. A dozen or more. Then trim, edit, rearrange, until you have seven sentences you’re happy with. Embrace the leaps these sentences might make. Like Lewis (which she does for the entirety of her upcoming collection), whatever the last word of the poem ends up being, make sure that’s also the title.

If you create something based on this hybrid prompt, please share it by commenting directly here or posting on socials and tagging myself (neonpajamas on all platforms) and/or Lesle Lewis (lesle.lewis on Instagram). It’s a great day to create something new. Good luck!

While this Substack will always be free, I’d be remiss to not mention my new poetry press. Piżama Press launched in 2025 and its next two releases are out this month! John’s Table by Lesle Lewis and Split / Game of Little Deaths by Réka Nyitrai. Both poetry collections will be released on May 27, 2026. You’d be really helping a small indie press and these wonderful poets by pre-ordering one (or both) of these books, as well as spreading the word (social media, Goodreads, local library, local bookseller). And, if you haven’t done so already, please check out last year’s inaugural release, Kiik Araki-Kawaguchi’s Disintegration Made Plain and Easy, which continues to reach new readers eager to find something strange and surreal, different and unique. After all, Piżama’s mantra is “The weirder, the better.” See you next Sunday!

“Francesca Woodman [May 05, 1979]”

Today, all day, I intend to sit with my back to the wall, face up, holding a fork in my right palm. I want to capture the breath of the fork resting in my palm. I want to capture and count how many steps the silence will take until it pierces my retina.

This is a previously unreleased prose poem by Réka Nyitrai, from her collection, Split / Game of Little Deaths, out later this month with Piżama Press.

Writing prompt: Half of Réka Nyitrai’s upcoming poetry collection is made up of imagined diary entries of surrealist artists Unica Zürn (1916-1970), Hans Bellmer (1902-1975), and Francesca Woodman (1958-1981). For your writing prompt, pick a favorite painter or actor or writer or musician. It can be anyone, really. Ideally someone who has a Wikipiedia page and who is no longer living. Channeling their story and their energy, write a prose poem disguised as a journal entry in their voice. It can be factual, it can be imagined, it can be a blending of both. Add a date to the top.

If you create something based on this hybrid prompt, please share it by commenting directly here or posting on socials and tagging myself (neonpajamas on all platforms) and/or Réka Nyitrai (nyitraireka1 on Twitter). It’s a great day to create something new. Good luck!

While this Substack will always be free, I’d be remiss to not mention my new poetry press. Piżama Press launched in 2025 and its next two releases are out this month! John’s Table by Lesle Lewis and Split / Game of Little Deaths by Réka Nyitrai. Both poetry collections will be released on May 27, 2026. You’d be really helping a small indie press and these wonderful poets by pre-ordering one (or both) of these books, as well as spreading the word (social media, Goodreads, local library, local bookseller). And, if you haven’t done so already, please check out last year’s inaugural release, Kiik Araki-Kawaguchi’s Disintegration Made Plain and Easy, which continues to reach new readers eager to find something strange and surreal, different and unique. After all, Piżama’s mantra is “The weirder, the better.” See you next Sunday!

“Visitors”

the murmur of / sober talk

was


a
dish of gruel, which combined
with / clear-headedness

the

rain and darkness

This is a previously unreleased poetry erasure / collage from Sarah J. Sloat, whose latest book, Classic Crimes, was released last year with Sarabande.

Writing prompt: Select a page from a novel or memoir or history textbook or newspaper article and practice the art of erasure. That is, remove most of the words on the page while only keeping visible a select few, thus turning the page into something new. Either use Wite-Out or a Sharpie marker or some scissors. The more analog and manual, the better. If you don’t feel like disrupting something physical, you’re welcome to copy and paste a block of text online into a new document and practice erasure in that way. Bonus points if you, like Sloat, add collage by decorating your newly formed page with additional clippings. Images from magazines, construction paper layers, flower petals found in your neighborhood. However you like.

If you create something based on this multimedia prompt, please share it by commenting directly here or posting on socials and tagging myself (neonpajamas on all platforms) and/or Sarah J. Sloat (sjane30 on Instagram and sjane on Bluesky). It’s a great day to create something new. Good luck!

While this Substack will always be free, I’d be remiss to not mention my new poetry press. Piżama Press launched in 2025 and its next two releases are out next month: John’s Table by Lesle Lewis and Split / Game of Little Deaths by Réka Nyitrai. Both poetry collections will be released on May 27, 2026. You’d be really helping a small indie press and these wonderful poets by pre-ordering one (or both) of these books, as well as spreading the word (social media, Goodreads, local library, local bookseller). And, if you haven’t done so already, please check out last year’s inaugural release, Kiik Araki-Kawaguchi’s Disintegration Made Plain and Easy, which continues to reach new readers eager to find something strange and surreal, different and unique. After all, Piżama’s mantra is “The weirder, the better.” See you next Sunday!

“For Those of You on Foot”

In the meantime, I added smoke to my tenor.
There’s no group hug.
Life jacket, then boat, then whatever.
You weren’t sure how to cite your dream.
H.W., but without his famous speech.

This is a previously unreleased poem from Nate Logan, whose latest collection of prose poems, Wrong Horse, is available now.

Writing prompt: Try to emulate Nate Logan’s poem by writing a five sentence poem of your own. First, begin with an opening phrase hinting that the piece is starting earlier in time. “In the meantime” or “Meanwhile” or “Years later” or “Anyway, as I was saying,” these all create the wonderfully disorientating effect of opening a novel on page 20. From there, see where the words and the rhythms of the lines take you. Note how Logan is willing to make broad leaps in this poem, jumping through the clouds and into new terrain with each new sentence. He trusts you, the reader, to follow along on this dense yet brief journey. If you have trouble making such leaps in your own writing, try writing 10-12 standalone sentences, then picking your five favorites and arranging them in an order than rhythmically makes sense. Plot does not need to take priority here. Focus instead on the music.

If you write something based on this prompt, please share it by commenting directly here or posting on socials and tagging myself (neonpajamas on all platforms) and/or Nate Logan (nate_vs_the_volcano on Instagram and airbudhockey on Bluesky). It’s a great day to draft some new writing. Good luck!

While this Substack will always be free, I’d be remiss to not mention my new poetry press. Piżama Press launched in 2025 and its next two releases are out next month: John’s Table by Lesle Lewis and Split / Game of Little Deaths by Réka Nyitrai. Both poetry collections will be released on May 27, 2026. You’d be really helping a small indie press and these wonderful poets by pre-ordering one (or both) of these books, as well as spreading the word (social media, Goodreads, local library, local bookseller). And, if you haven’t done so already, please check out last year’s inaugural release, Kiik Araki-Kawaguchi’s Disintegration Made Plain and Easy, which continues to reach new readers eager to find something strange and surreal, different and unique. After all, Piżama’s mantra is “The weirder, the better.” See you next Sunday!